


Mother, Sister, Lover, Sky

by Sefiru



Series: Hidden Sky [7]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: 2759, Backstory, Bianchi gets scolded, Christmas, D/s, Drinking, Earth Flames (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Family, Flame Active Nana, Humor, Iemitsu's A+ family values, Kawahira know things, Kink Without Sex, M/M, Mukuro gang's housekeeping fails, Namimori Mafia Community, Naughty Christmas, OTL!Gokudera, Poison Cooking, Practical uses of time travel, Reborn shoots things, References to corproal punishment, SCIENCE!, Service Kink, Slice of Life, Sub!Fon, Training, Tsuna is seriously OP, boss!Tsuna, breath play, flame theory, gratuitous pop culture references, japanese new year, kink with sex, relationship breakup, surprise visit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-01 07:49:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21446029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sefiru/pseuds/Sefiru
Summary: At long last, Tsuna has freed himself from the Seal that made his childhood a misery ... but that causes some complications of its own. Meanwhile, Hayato's past catches up with him, and more of Iemitsu's idiocy comes to light. It's a busy Christmas season in Namimori!
Relationships: Gokudera Hayato/Sawada Tsunayoshi, Sawada Nana & Bianchi
Series: Hidden Sky [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1059935
Comments: 313
Kudos: 1259





	1. Chapter 1

A hush fell over the room as Tsuna-sama’s Flame flared. Hayato held his breath; he wasn’t the only one. The last branches of the Seal showed dark and _cold_ around the blazing Sky. Soon, Tsuna-sama would be free of it forever. Hayato clenched a stick of dynamite in a white-knuckled grip; many times now he had stood watch while his Sky fought the Seal, and it was still as horrible as the first. Now Tsuna-sama had a full dozen Guardians to protect him, and his Mists had wrapped the room in so many barriers it might as well be in a pocket dimension, but none of them could help him.

The final stage was harder than any that had gone before. Tsuna-sama grew pale with effort, and sweat dripped from his brow. The groans of pain he made would haunt Hayato’s nightmares for years. The seal did not go easily; as its substance was burned away, it flowed and reshaped itself. But it could not replace what was destroyed; Tsuna-sama only had to endure long enough, and he would overcome it.

Across the room, Mukuro was biting his lip. Despite being their Sky’s newest Guardian, his powers gave him the clearest link to Tsuna-sama’s mind. At the moment, Hayato didn’t envy him. Tsuna-sama pushed into Dying Will mode, then Hyper Dying Will; the seal thinned to a wire, to a thread, to a _hair_ … and at long last, crumbled into nothing. The ache echoing through their bond was replaced with wild, fierce joy. Tsuna-sama’s Flame blazed out unconstrained and knocked the breath out of all of them before it receded. Tsuna-sama crumpled into Hayato’s waiting arms, exhausted but smiling.

“I’m free, Hayato.”

“Yeah.” Hayato couldn’t help but return his smile. “Let’s get you to bed, Cielo Mio.”

“In front of everybody? That’s perverted …”

“A Mafia Boss should be comfortable with his perversions,” Reborn teased.

Tsuna-sama made an annoyed sound. “Hayato, flip him off for me.” Ever obedient, Hayato did so with both hands. He felt, rather than heard, Tsuna-sama’s giggle. “Night, everyone …” And then he was asleep.

*** 

Reborn concealed a sigh of relief as his fluffy student settled into sleep. It was the end of a long road for him; the conclusion of a ten-year-long plan that he had created at age five. The knowledge still made Reborn’s stomach twist. To bind a soul who was capable of so much was … a pragmatic decision, but still an abhorrent one.

Hayato and Takeshi tucked Fluffy-Tsuna into bed, and Lambo curled up next to him. Reborn climbed into his hammock, though he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. He had met Fluffy-Tsuna just before his fourteenth birthday, shy and wary. Now he was sixteen and the confident leader of hundreds, in large part thanks to Reborn’s teaching.

There was still progress to be made, of course; he took out his laptop to survey his training notes. For the next few months they would be filling in the gaps in Fluffy-Tsuna’s mainstream education before he started high school. On the mafia side, there was the regular business of his holdings and a special project or two. 

A smirk curled Reborn’s lip up. The Zero-Point Breakthrough was hardly a challenge for the Sky who had bagged _him_, the World’s Greatest Hitman, as a Guardian. Fluffy-Tsuna had been the first person in decades to get Reborn’s birth name out of him; he hadn’t been able to point a gun at him since they harmonised, but that just meant he could get _creative_.

“Hahi, Matteo-sensei is grinning – duck and cover!” And his students were developing excellent situational awareness, too.

*** 

Fuuta ducked as a beanbag flew past his head.

“Take that, Calamity-Pin!”

“Hahi, that’s not nice!” Haru scolded.

“It’s okay, it didn’t hit me,” Fuuta said quietly; he was busy building a sand sculpture.

“It might have if you hadn’t ducked,” said Haru. “Lambo, do I have to tell Matteo-sensei that your aim is sloppy?”

“No, no, no! He’ll make Lucky Lambo do boring drills!”

A few meters away, I-pin stuck out her tongue. “Shifu never needs to scold me about aiming.”

“Shut up! Matteo-sensei is an awesome teacher!”

Fuuta smiled. Fifth out of three hundred and twenty nice things about living in Namimori was playing in the garden with his friends. Or maybe they were his siblings now? Fuuta’s shovel struck something hard under the sand. Haru winked at him. “Hahi, it looks like you’ve found buried treasure!” Oh, a surprise! He started to clear the sand away.

Lambo leaned in to look. “It’s got Viper’s Flame on it. Belphegor’s, too!”

“Really?” Excited, Fuuta dug further, and uncovered a small cardboard box. It was wrapped up in packing tape, and written on it was a note: ‘Open early: to be worn at holiday events.’

“They sent presents!” yelled Lambo. I-pin threw a beanbag at him.

“Not so loud, Broccoli-head!”

“I’m not broccoli, I’m the quickest draw in the West!” And they were off again. Fuuta shook the box, wondering what was in it. His ‘royal cousin’ Belphegor had some specific ideas about how a Prince should act – even a Ranking Prince. Fuuta thought about doing a ranking of the most likely contents of the box; the ends of his scarf started to flutter.

“Wait until we’re inside, Fuuta-kun,” Haru told him. Fuuta knew that part of staying safe was keeping his power a secret. But it was so tempting on a bright, crisp day like today, when he could sense the Ranking Planet so clearly. He did one of the breathing exercises Shifu Fon had shown him.

“Can I open it? The note says to.” Haru nodded, and he ran inside to get some scissors. He cut the tape and pulled apart the tissue paper inside … it was a crown! This one was made to go across the forehead, instead of the top of his head like Bel’s. It was silver with round pieces of opal and turquoise. There was wooden case for it, too, which was useful since Fuuta couldn’t wear the crown all the time. He tried it on.

“Wow, Fuuta’s a real prince now,” said Lambo.

*** 

The convenience store had a stripe of orange tape over the door, which was why Tsuna chose to stop there. He just wanted some snacks to bring to Mukuro’s place, and it was always nice to meet one of his people. He tilted his head, trying to recall the location from his lists of tributes.

“It’s Weber, Decimo,” Hayato told him. He and Takeshi parked their bikes alongside Tsuna’s. “You met him at TakeSushi that one time.”

“Oh, right; the American.” He’d been one of the Neighborhood Watch who had helped take care of the Todd Famiglia last summer; Tsuna had treated them all to dinner as thanks. Now he definitely wanted to go in and say hello.

“It gets better,” Hayato grinned. “I’m pretty sure this is where Nezu-sensei ended up working.”

“Oh? Well, he should know to be polite to customers … and we won’t give him any excuse not to be. Right?”

“Understood, Decimo.”

“Got it, Tsuna.” They traded vindictive smirks, and then schooled their expressions. Their frequent card games were helping with that.

Tsuna pushed the door open. Sure enough, Nezu was mopping the floor while Weber was at the cash. “Welcome to our store – oh, this is an honor!”

“It’s good to see you again, Weber-san. We just came in for some snacks.”

“Of course, sir. Nezu-kun!” The former teacher set his mop aside and came over, visibly biting his tongue when he saw who the customers were.

“Yes, Manager-san?”

“It’s been a while, Nezu-san,” Tsuna greeted him brightly.

“Do you know each other, sir?”

“Nezu-san used to work at our school.” Tsuna was a little disappointed at the way Nezu was grinding his teeth. If he had changed his attitude, Tsuna would have been willing to forgive him for the past. As it was, he was still stewing in contempt for all of them; ‘no good’ Tsuna, ‘delinquent’ Hayato, ‘slacker jock’ Takeshi, and even his American employer. Weber was oblivious.

“Nezu-kun, mind the register; I am going to help the honoured customers with their shopping.” He grabbed a basket.

“I don’t want to be a bother,” Tsuna said, but he knew it would be futile.

“Please, sir. It’s no more than you deserve.” They only needed a few things, so it didn’t take long. Nezu turned some interesting colors while he watched his manager usher Tsuna and his friends around the store. He also glanced around for hidden cameras once or twice; sadly for him, this wasn’t that kind of prank. They paid and left; once they were out of earshot, Hayato started laughing so hard he nearly crashed his bike into a hedge.

“His face! That was classic, Decimo.”

Tsuna was giggling himself. “Technically, we didn’t even do anything.”

“Maa, Dad always says manners can get a lot done,” added Takeshi. That had them all snickering until they arrived at Mukuro’s apartment.

“Dear Tsuna, what has you so amused?”

“Jst a little revenge. You can scan my memories if you like.” Tsan felt a tickle in his head as Mukuro did so. The Mist’s powers were weird but they sure saved time on explanations.

“Kufufufu, subtle and stinging; I like your style, dear Tsuna.”

“If you say so.” Tsuna flopped down on a cushion. The apartment was done up as an Arab tent at the moment, with rugs and wall hangings courtesy of Mkuro’s illusions. A book was propped open at Mukuro’s elbow; Chikusa was playing a game on his phone, while Ken attempted to peel potatoes.

“Damn, we’re never going to get a hotpot at this rate.”

“Maa, let me help with that,” said Takeshi.

Mukuro fussed with setting out cups, plates and coasters. He had become quite house-proud, now that he _had_ a house, especially when his Sky was a guest.

“Kufufufu, I’m positively domestic, dear Tsuna. And you – have you any plans now that your bonds are loosed?”

Hayato snorted. “Like you don’t already know, Mr Psychic.”

“I have a few ideas,” said Tsuna. “Plus there’s Christmas and New Year’s coming up. This is your first time celebrating either one, right? I’m looking forward to seeing what you think of them.”

*** 

Lal twitches as she studies the drawing tacked to TakeSushi’s wall. Twelve Guardians, four of them Mists – is the kid made of glue? Yamamoto is laughing at her reaction, she can just tell. “Maa, you’ve been staying out of the loop.”

“Safer that way.” What she doesn’t know, she can’t leak. It’s already tempting to tell her idiot boss that _actually_, his ‘tsuna-fishie’ is the Yin Tian that he’s had all of CEDEF chasing. Iemitsu would never believe her but she knows better than to take the chance. “Are you going to fill me in?”

“Ahaha, I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

“Screw you too,” Lal says cordially, while she wonders what could be more surprising than harmonizing with Checkerface. She is finally used to having all her Flames again; she never noticed how off-kilter she was without her Rain. Colonello deserves a medal for putting up with her attitude. Maybe she’ll send him one for Christmas.

It’s been a year, but Lal still knows the way to her future Don’s house. It’s weirdly suburban for what goes on there. She can pick out the discreet defenses; the fence full of thorny roses, the wind chimes at every window. Those have an improvised feel, and she wonders if Tsuna came up with them himself. Layered over them are Reborn’s more professional cameras and sensors, along with a web of Mist. She doesn’t want to know what it does.

She rings the bell, and Tsuna’s mother answers it. “Mirch-san, it’s good to see you again! Matteo-san said you were coming – he’s out with Tsu-kun right now. Please do come in.”

There is something about that alias; Lal can’t put her finger on it, but it’s outside Reborn’s usual pattern. Not Lal’s business, but that never stops her. She goes through the usual routine of a guest: how was the trip, how’s the weather, would she like some tea. “The powder room is right through there, oh, and do you have any food restrictions?”

“I don’t eat beef. Anything else is fine.” Lal has brought a tin of Italian biscuits, which Nana exclaims over. “I see you’ve got a cat.” The grey tabby is lounging on the windowsill; there’s enough Mist on it that it might be a construct. Nana giggles.

“No one has a cat – they have you. Officially he belongs to Chrome, but he’s over here all the time.” She flutters off to the kitchen, leaving Lal alone with the cat.

“And what might your name be?” she muses.

The cat says, “I am Daemon Spade.”

*** 

He knew she didn’t believe him. His young Boss might trust her as an ally, but not he – not enough to leave her alone with his Sky’s civilian mother. He had watched her for many years – as Arcobaleno and CEDEF agent, target and tool in his plots; she amused him. “Signora, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes. “Next you’re going to tell me that you’re one of Tsuna’s extra Mists.

“Naturally.” Her confusion was delicious, and was it not a virtue to pay it forward? “This is Namimori. Stranger things have happened.”

***

“Listen up, crew! We’ve only got an hour so let’s make it count!” Skull stood on the roof of the camera van, arms akimbo. “We’ll do the route four times to film from different angles; no stunts today, this is for stock footage. Andretti!” He pointed at his best assistant driver. “Have you gotten familiar with the route?”

“Sure have, chief!”

“Camera guys, got your gear set up?” Three heads nodded in unison. Skull backflipped off the van and landed next to his new motorcycle. With a touch of his bracelet he changed to adult form and leapt aboard. His custom mini-bikes were fit for a star, but they didn’t have the engine power of a full-sized machine. His crew got in the van; he revved his engine and grinned.

“Chief, can I get a go/no go?” Andretti said over his helmet radio.

“The Great-Skull-sama is ready when you are!” The camera van peeled rubber; Skull was right behind it. This part of Italy had lots of hills with twisty roads, the perfect backdrop for a new promo video. Convenient, too – the Cavallone had the right amount of respect for star quality. His crew had a whole apartment block to use as a dorm, and Skull had the loft over Cavallone’s garage to himself. He could text Dino’s head cook and food would appear at his door. He could get used to living like this between tours.

***

The base’s café was crowded, and Haru made sure to pick a seat away from the pervy doctor. Reborn had hired Shamal to teach the whole study group a special technique, and she hoped it wasn’t going to be perverted too. 

“Interesting choice for an early Christmas present,” Kyoko said.

“Learn this, and you’ll be able to read minds like me,” Reborn told her.

“Wait, so you’re not just really good at cold reading?”

“It’s a great deal more accurate than that. And also how a Sun can talk to animals.” How? By activating their brains directly? That was so cool!

“Everyone’s here,” said Hayato. Shamal cleared his throat.

“I’ve been asked to talk to you all about using Flames on the microscopic scale. I’m only going to cover sensory techniques today, since you need to have that down before you try anything else. Now, have any of you noticed that you can recognize certain materials just by how they feel to your Flames?”

Haru put up her hand. “I can tell different kinds of fabric apart!”

Boss said, “I can sense differences in movement.”

“You’ve got a head start, then.” Shamal held up a test tube full of clear liquid. “To start with, take a look at this and tell me how many substances you can sense in the liquid.” The tube was passed around and everyone guessed a different number. Haru thought three, but it was hard; like looking at different colors of sand all mixed together. Kyoko guessed two; Boss guessed _five_.

“All of you are correct,” said Shamal. Wait, what? Mists were confusing. “The test tube contains salt water.” He held up a card which read, _H2O, H+, OH-, Na+, Cl- _ “Dissolved salt separates into two ions, and some water molecules also separate into ions. So depending on how sensitive you are to each, you might detect between two and five different particles. Now, compare this solution to the previous one.” He passed around another tube. It was almost the same as the last one except that one of the ‘colors’ was missing.

“One of the salt ones is gone,” said Boss; it was no surprise that he had an eye for detail. Hayato, who had already learned some of this stuff, said,

“It’s hydrochloric acid.”

“Hahi, isn’t that dangerous?”

Shamal gave her a lazy smile. “make sure not to break the tube, my dear – ow!” Hana had flicked an acorn at him. He held up another card: _H2O, H+, OH-, Cl-._

“What would it be like with just the sodium?” asked Kyoko.

“That would be sodium hydroxide.” A third test tube and matching card. Kyoko held one sample in each hand, he Flames flowing through both of them. “I can sort of feel the difference … may I see the first one again?”

Shamal handed it to her. “I’ve made this easier by using lab-grade materials; if you tried this with tap water and table salt, you’d find many more substances in it. See what you can describe about this one.” A fourth test tube was passed around.

“Oh, that’s very different,” said Boss. The vial came around to haru and it was not like salt at all. She was starting to know what water felt like, but not the other ingredient.

“It feels like it’s, bigger?”

“Something organic,” Hayato guessed.

“Correct; this is sugar water.” Shamal set up yet another card; this one had a diagram of a molecule on it. Was that really what sugar looked like? Haru was going to have to pay attention in chemistry class. “Once you’ve got the idea, the next step is just a lot of practice with observation. For example, try reading a book without opening it.”

Kyoko lit up. “Now, _that_ would be really useful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again! The writing process on this one was, uh, non-linear. This is why I don't post my chapters as I write them; it would have sucked *so hard*. I have, hopefully, crafted a silk purse out of the sow's ear that was my first draft, so thank you all for tuning in to the next step of Tsuna's inadvertent road to world domination.


	2. Chapter 2

Namimori had little to recommend it, from Bianchi’s point of view. Give her the big city life – Milan or Geneva, or even Tokyo; not this sleepy backwater. And the local Mafiosi were all sissies or washouts. Her true love must be bored to tears here – and his student was a _civilian_. Reborn would thank her for getting him out of this one. 

She cruised down the suburban street in her guise as a delivery driver, past sleepy civilian houses full of sleepy little civilians. The address she was looking for didn’t stand out from the others; this was going to be _easy_. She got off her scooter with her specially prepared box of pastries, walked up to the door, and rang the bell.

The door swung open; on the other side was the last person Bianchi expected to see here. Her little brother blinked at her, twice, and slammed the door in her face.

*** 

Hayato turned away from the door, feeling slightly queasy.

“Who was that?” asked Tsuna-sama.

“My sister.” And what was _she_ doing here? Bianchi had targeted this house specifically, but not because of Hayato; she had been surprised to see him.

“Oh, no! How are you feeling, Hayato?”

“I’m all right, Decimo.” Compared to the panic attacks he used to get when he encountered Bianchi, a little nausea was nothing. And it was his Sky who had made that possible. Hayato sat back down at the table where they had been playing a board game. He leaned his head on Tsuna-sama’s shoulder for a moment, and Tsuna-sama petted his hair.

“Has anyone got wood?” said Reborn, which made them both blush. Lambo and I-pin looked confused, and Fon was amused under his serene mask. Reborn continued, “I’ll swap for clay.”

“I will trade,” said I-pin.

Fon said, “Shall one make ginger tea, Hayato-sempai?”

“Yeah, that would be great.” Hayato turned his attention to the board. He did, in fact, have plenty of wood, but he was saving it for his own plans, assuming Lambo didn’t snap up the space first.

Tsuna-sama tilted his head the way he did when he was sensing Flames. “Make a whole pot, Fon. She’s not going away.” Hayato shrugged; someone else could answer the door next time.

Only, what his _genius_ sister did next was use her poisons to dissolve the door. This, unlike ringing the bell like a civilised person, triggered the Mist barriers around the house. Bianchi shrieked as a mass of vines engulfed her and bound her hand and foot.

“Not it,” said Hayato.

Reborn stood up. “I’ll talk to her.” His hat was pulled over his eyes, and his hand was on his gun. Hayato grumbled; he might not want to _see_ Bianchi, but she was still his only sister. “Don’t kill her unless you have to, Sensei.” Bianchi would be lucky to get out of this with a maiming.

The house defenses had notified all of Tsuna’s other Guardians – starting with three vicious and powerful Mists. (It would be four once Chrome got the hang of teleporting.) By the time Hayato convinced his stomach to settle and went to the door, Mukuro was holding a trident to Bianchi’s throat. Daemon Spade, though still cat-shaped, was the size of a Bengal tiger and snarling; Kawahira simply stood with his arms crossed and a grim expression. Reborn stood on the threshold and asked with deceptive mildness, “Bianchi, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

There was the arrogant smile Hayato knew all to well. “I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding, sweetheart. I was surprised to see my little brother here, that’s all.”

“What exactly is there to misunderstand about you destroying my front door?” asked Tsuna, coming up to stand beside Hayato.

“Allow me,” said Mukuro; his eye flashed with the number 1, and a new door appeared in the frame.

“Thank you, Mukuro; I’m still going to ask Bianchi-san to pay for the replacement. You have better things to do than clean up after her.”

Bianchi gave him a dismissive look. “Go and play, fluffy, the adults are talking – ow!” Mukuro had poked her with the trident. Hayato scowled.

“That’s my Sky you’re talking to, Sister. Show some respect.”

“Oh, like any Sky would be caught dead associating with you, little brother. You’re cute and all, but come on.” Did she not notice the Sky Flames that soaked the house and garden? Bianchi always did have a one-track mind, and she had all her attention on Reborn. “I came to find my True Love, so we can finally be together.”

Tsuna-sama wrinkled his nose. “Even though he has the body of a three-year-old?”

“I believe she’s convinced herself that I’m just very short,” said Reborn. Hibari, who had appeared at the gate in time to hear the last bit, growled. Hayato took a moment to send a group text: [My sister showed up, is bad at knocking. Situation under control.] He spoke too soon, of course.

“True love can overcome any obstacle,” Bianchi declared. “Reborn, I’ll find a way to get you away from these rugrats – ” In a flash, Reborn had the barrel of his gun pressed under her chin.

“Over my dead body.”

*** 

Tsuna sighed; he could feel Reborn’s incandescent fury through the Element bond. While it was touching that Reborn reacted that badly to the idea of being separated from him, he should intervene before anything permanent happened. “Fon, disarm her, please.”

“Yes, Master.” Fon’s Flame surged over Bianchi, vaporising any weapons she was carrying. She squawked, but the Flames left her clothes intact, as well as the Mist vines holding her. Fon picked up a fallen pastry box. “One presumes this is an example of poison cooking.”

“And we should know how to recognise it. Good call, Fon,” said Tsuna. Fon bowed low in thanks for the praise, and then cautiously opened the box.

Hayato gulped. “Yeah, that’s it.” Tsuna squeezed his hand. The contents of the box were an unnatural color and squirming with maggots; how Bianchi expected anyone to eat that was beyond him. This cooking was _supernaturally_ bad. In fact …

“Kawahira-san, have you ever heard of a Flame type that makes things rot?”

“Hmm – that could be a Swamp Flame, one of the Flames of Earth; they’re quite rare compared to the Flames of the Sky. I might have a way to confirm it, I’ll have to check my stockroom.”

“I’m not about to touch any Flame device of yours,” Reborn snarked.

“Let’s get this business sorted out first,” Tsuna groaned. Another set of Flames besides the ones he already knew about? Wasn’t his life crazy enough already?

“Hello-o! Still tied up, here!” called Bianchi. Hayato sneered at her.

“Be patient, Sister; the grown-ups are talking.”

*** 

Reborn smirked; his students were growing skilled at controlling a situation with words alone. His initial rage had cooled – a bit – but he was not giving Bianchi any slack. She was already on thin ice after the time she tried to poison clumsy-Dino, and she was still banned from Cavallone territory.

“If Mukuro lets you loose, are you going to behave?” asked Fluffy-Tsuna.

“Fine.” The vines uncoiled but didn’t disappear. “Reborn, sweetheart!” She leaned forward, arms outstretched for a hug; Kyoya seized her by the collar.

“Mine,” he growled in her ear.

“Apparently I’m in a committed relationship now,” Reborn agreed, which would no doubt lead to more opportunities to troll the young Cloud. Taking a step back, he ejected the magazine from his gun and replaced it with one full of rubber bullets. He fired one into Bianchi’s ribs. “That is for trying to forcibly enter a Sky’s house.” A second shot. “And _that_ is for not casing the place properly first.”

“Owie …” Bianchi rubbed her side. “You’re kidding, right? A Sky, here?”

“Not kidding at all,” said Fluffy-Tsuna, and let his Flame show for a moment. “Which you would know if you had spent any time checking out the town. Or thought about what kind of students Reborn-sensei tutors.”

“I couldn’t wait to see my True Love again!”

Nana wandered out of the kitchen, having finally noticed the commotion. “Ara, what’s this?”

Hayato facepalmed. “Nana, this is my sister Bianchi.”

“It’s so nice when family comes to visit,” Nana said, slightly wistful. Reborn added to his mental ‘shoot Iemitsu’ list. “Are you staying for tea, Bianchi-san?”

“I’d love to, Nana-san,” Bianchi said, showing that she had at least had the foresight to acquire Japanese before coming. Reborn wondered if his fluffy student had even noticed that most of the preceding conversation had been in Italian.

“Bianchi, I know you have manners; use them,” Hayato warned her. Kyoya snorted and stalked away, pulling Mukuro along by the arm.

*** 

He flopped back on the grass of Kokuyo Land’s sparring ground, panting for breath, his trident fallen beside him. Nearby, the Cloud-birdie lay in a similar state. “Kufufufu, I needed that.” Dear Tsuna’s approach to leadership was delicious in its own way, but it lacked in opportunities for all-out, knock-down battle.

“Hn. Good fight.”

“Bet you never saw a pineapple do that.”

“Pineapple! Pineapple!” called the birdie’s pet birdie.

He lay still a while longer, watching the clouds – the white ones, not the violet – drift across the sky. Before this place – this town, this refuge – he would never have dared to lie down beside a breathing opponent. The turf around them was churned and scorched. “Why do you call him small omnivore?”

“Because he will consume all.”

Now that would be a sight to see. Dear Tsuna, ruling in a cloak of exasperation, grousing and moaning at the absurdity of it. “Have you ever fought him like this?”

“Soon.”

*** 

Hayato was hauled bodily into his Sky’s room – not that he tried to _resist_ – and pushed onto the bed where Tsuna-sama straddled his hips to pin him down. “Mine. She can’t have you.”

“She won’t, Decimo,” Hayato assured him. “You won’t let her, and neither will I.” Against their combined resolve, Bianchi stood no chance. Hayato had yet another reason to be grateful for the Guardian bond; even blood ties came second to that in Mafia culture. He ran his hands up his Sky’s back. Tsuna-sama was so _careful_ of his Guardians’ happiness; he allowed them time for their own hobbies, their friends and family, even at his own cost. If Hayato had truly wished to return to his former Famiglia, Tsuna-sama would have found a way to allow it. He didn’t, though. Everything he wanted was already in his grasp; literally. He wrapped his hands over Tsuna-sama’s shoulders. “The annoying part is getting Bianchi to back off. She’s as pig-headed as … anyone Flame Active, really.”

“Are you calling me pig-headed, Hayato?” teased Tsuna-sama.

Hayato replied solemnly, “You have boundless determination, Cielo Mio.” Tsuna-sama giggled.

“Wear your collar when you talk to her.”

“Yes, Decimo.” Hayato took a deep breath of his Sky’s scent. “Would a few hickeys help, do you think?”

Tsuna-sama looked him up and down, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Depends on where I put them.”

*** 

The envelope Kusakabe was holding glowed with Sky Flames, and it was addressed to Hibari-taichou personally. Kusakabe suspected that his boss already knew who Inten-sama was; why? Because the Hibari Clan as a whole, and the Cloud in particular, was one of the powers of Namimori’s Flame community. Kusakabe’s father was a high-ranked member of the Momokyokai, but he had approved of Tetsuya acting as Hibari’s Right Hand. The Demon Prefect was sure to be highly placed in, if not leading, whatever organisation he deemed acceptable. He hadn’t mentioned any association with Inten-sama, of course; Tetsuya was just a little annoyed that he hadn’t yet figured it out himself.

He entered Hibari-taichou’s office-lair and silently presented the message. Hibari grabbed it and tore it open. He bared his teeth in a grin as he read the contents. “Herbivore, prepare a car tomorrow.” He shoved the note at Tetsuya. _ ‘As promised. Tomorrow, noon, the amphitheatre.’ _ This was … a challenge? From Inten-sama to Hibari-taichou? “You, Wu Fei, and Wu Lin will accompany me.”

“Understood.” Hibari’s Chinese cousins were several years older than most of the Disciplinary Committee, and they were here as some sort of tribute from the Hibari Clan to Inten-sama. But they were under Hibari-taihou’s direct command, so they would listen to Tetsuya as his mouthpiece – no matter how nerve-wracking that was for him. He bowed and left to carry out his captain’s instructions. It only occurred to him later that _he_ would be meeting Inten-sama as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look before you leap, Bianchi ...
> 
> The game they are playing is Settlers of Catan.


	3. Chapter 3

Tetsuya was wearing his best Committee uniform, his pompadour carefully combed. Wu Fei and Wu Lin were just as polished in suits and ties, but Hibari-taichou hadn’t bothered to dress any different than usual. He parked the car and grunted at them all to get out. Tetsuya recognised the location as the former Kokuyo Land; a sensible place to hold a challenge, away from people and without any valuable property to destroy. 

Hibari-taichou knew exactly where he was going. The three of them followed in his wake, through the mall’s central courtyard. It was boarded up and overgrown as Kusakabe expected, but on second glance, it was cleaner than it should be. Dead leaves had been swept up, and nothing was actually broken. And there were Sky Flames everywhere. Was Inten-sama using this as a base? Beyond the courtyard was the amphitheatre, and waiting in the center was … Hibari-taichou’s pet underclassman? Tetsuya had never given him much thought; fluffy, clumsy, a target for bullies. He brought Hibari a lunch every day, and in return Hibari was unusually … protective … _no way. _

“Ready to go?” asked Sawada.

Hibari drew his tonfas and pounced.

*** 

Tsuna dodged his Cloud’s blow, snickering at Hibari’s total lack of manners. Hesitation was for herbivores, after all. Hibari struck again, and Tsuna slithered aside. He didn’t care about winning so much; it was more important that he was spending time with one of his own in a way they both enjoyed. He ducked under the tonfas to strike at Hibari’s ribs; Hibari blocked at the last instant.

He had still been in primary school when he made the promise to fight Hibari when he reached his full strength. Back then, he would never have imagined that he would come to the match with training. He would never have imagined that Hibari would be one of his Elements. Tsuna blocked a tonfa and used Hibari’s arm as a pivot to swing himself up and over. He was keeping up, even without Dying Will Mode. 

And once he grasped the rhythm, the pattern of Hibari’s movement, it was like they were moving in unison, more dance than contest.

*** 

Hayato thought he might be drooling. There was no better way to take his mind off his _family problems _ than watching his Sky move. Even Tsuna-sama’s spars with Dino hadn’t been this intense; Hibari was not holding back, but while he was constantly in contact, he was unable to land more than a glancing blow. Was _this _ where the legends of untouchable Skies came from? 

Hayato was not the only one gaping; the pair of Hibari honor guards had dropped any attempt to stay professional. Kusakabe looked like he’d been smacked with a fish. Reborn was smugly proud, while Fon was leaning forward hungrily. Hayato wouldn’t have noticed it if Fon wasn’t sitting on his knee.

“You’ll get your turn this evening,” Hayato muttered to him.

“One would not wish to impose on your time,” Fon murmured back. Hayato snorted; training sessions were all well and good, but Fon was _family _, not a hired hand. He deserved to have his Sky to himself for a night, and it was Hayato’s responsibility as his sempai to make sure he got it. 

“You kidding? I’m still sore from last night.” His every waking moment was bound by Tsuna-sama’s orders, whether he was by his side or not. He touched his collar; and Tsuna-sama would always give him strength, whether or not he was present. 

A tree branch crashed to the ground, and Hayato winced. He was confident that both Tsuna-sama and Hibari would come out of their match unharmed, but he wasn’t so sure about their surroundings.

*** 

Tetsuya felt like an idiot. Inten-sama had been right under his nose for years, and he hadn’t noticed. It seemed obvious now; his circle of Flame Active friends, his tutor – Tetsuya knew what the Arcobaleno were; he had even met Hibari-taichou’s uncle before. It looked like Shifu Fon was teaching Inten-sama too; there was none of the clumsiness he showed at school.

By some unspoken signal, Sky and Cloud concluded their duel. Hibari was barely ruffled, and Inten-sama had a ripped shirt and a few bruises, but no worse. They both turned toward the small group of spectators. Tetsuya gulped. Why? Because he remembered some of the names he’d used for Inten-sama – never to his face, or where Hibari could hear, thank Heaven. His time on the Disciplinary Committee had ingrained the proper response in him: confess all, and hope the biting wasn’t too harsh. He dropped into a dogeza: “I humbly apologise for ignorant comments I have made in the past, Inten-sama.”

“There’s no need to apologise, Kusakabe-san. Please stand up.” Tetsuya straightened, and his eyes met Inten-sama’s, still glowing orange. He flinched and looked down, feeling like even more of a heel.

“Stop being herbivorous,” Hibari-taichou growled.

“If it bothers you that much, you can wash out your mouth with soap later,” said Inten-sama. “You’re one of Hibari’s people, Kusakabe-kun, which makes you one of mine. Welcome to the Family, ne?”

Family, him? The role of Hibari’s Right Hand was the most he had ever aspired to; it hadn’t occurred to him that it would translate to a place in Inten-sama’s organisation. He bowed low again. “I shall strive to be worthy of this honor, Inten-sama.”

“You’re allowed to use my name, you know …”

*** 

On the other side of town, Lal is enjoying some rare all-girl company in a private booth in the gambling hall. “Are you sure you’re not interested in seeing Boss fight?” says Kyoko as she pours more tea. “We’re all going to watch the video later.”

Lal shakes her head. “It’s best if I don’t know certain things. My boss might be an idiot but he’s still a Sky. He gets you chatting over drinks and you end up spilling stuff without meaning to.” There are ways around that, but she’d rather not take chances. She can see Kyoko making mental notes; that girl is going to end up doing her job one day. “Usually not a good idea to admit there’s video, either.”

“Hahi, secrets are hard,” said Haru.

“You’re doing all right, for the amount of experience you have.” Lal takes a bite of cake. In fact, they’re acting a lot like Nono and his Guardians, working as a group and covering each other’s weaknesses. It makes Lal wonder if there is something actually wrong with Iemitsu. He has officers that he calls Guardians, but none of them are bonded. It would be easy to think that the difference in teamwork is due to the Ninth Generation’s longer experience – but Tsuna’s circle blows that idea out of the water. “I notice a certain sister hasn’t been invited.”

“I don’t think I could act as a proper hostess towards her at the moment,” Kyoko says primly while her eyes glow gold. Reborn’s apprentice indeed. Lal smiles back just as sweetly.

“Manners are so important for guests as well as hosts. Your Boss has asked me to apply some … discipline.” Army style.

A waitress appears in the door; the girls greet her familiarly as Sarindar. She looks Lal up and down. “You had better be doing right by these girls,” she says in Hindi.

“I intend to,” Lal replies in the same language. It gets her a pleased smile from Sarindar and curious looks from the others. Good; Lal wants to keep them on their toes while she still can.

“Man, do we have to start learning _another _ language?” said Hana, who is sitting on the windowsill instead of at the table.

“Varia agents have to know seven,” Chrome points out. Lal smirks and asks, still in Hindi, if there’s any place in town to get a decent curry.

*** 

Tetsuya arrived home still half in a daze, and went straight to the washroom to soap his mouth. It was nasty, which was the whole point. When he came out, his father was waiting with a confused expression. “Tetsuya, what – ?” He noticed the dust on his trousers and pompadour. “Who put you on your knees?”

“Inten-sama did.” He still couldn’t quite believe it.

“So Hibari finally let you meet him, huh? What’s with the soap?”

Tetsuya scratched his neck. “I might have said … some things … when I didn’t know who he was.”

His father snorted. “If it was my decision, it would have been the belt.”

“I _know. _”

“You going to shape up now?”

“Yes, Father.” He didn’t need to be told again, now that he had seen for himself who and what Inten-sama was.

His father passed him a can of beer, and cracked open his own. “So what’s he like?”

“I thought he’d be taller.”

*** 

Hayato had the advantage on his sister for once, and he was savoring every second. The look on her face when he brought her into the secret café was _perfect _; she was still staring while he brewed coffee. Reborn sat on the table facing her, his hat pulled over his eyes while he smirked evilly. They both knew that the quickest way to get under Bianchi’s skin was with silence.

“What gives?” she said eventually. “Wouldn’t you each rather talk to me in private?”

“We’re each other’s chaperones,” Reborn told her. Hayato nodded agreement; even now that he had a counter to Bianchi’s main techniques, he wasn’t going to spend any time _alone _ with her.

“Hayato, is that a hickey?”

“Yeah. Want to see the rest of them?” his hands went to his belt buckle.

“Ew, no! And why are you wearing a collar?”

“To make a point.” 

Bianchi pouted. “It’s as if you don’t trust me.”

“I don’t,” said Hayato. “You want to drag me back to a place where I was treated like a performing animal when I wasn’t shoved aside and ignored. And you keep trying to poison me.”

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad; Daddy said …” She trailed off weakly under their flat stares, and switched to another tactic. “Hayato, I was worried about you!”

“You have a strange way of showing it,” Reborn put in. Hayato set the coffee cups on the table and sat down as far from Bianchi as he could. She continued,

“You were taking kiddie jobs for chump change, spending the money on cigarettes instead of food, and living in rat-hole apartments; you can do better than that! And when was the last time you went to church?”

Church? Was she seriously bringing _church _ into this? “I am doing better, Sister.” Hayato took a sip of his definitely poison-free coffee. “Did it ever occur to you that most of my health problems are because of you? The only reason I can even _look _ at you is because I learned a way to stop you from ever hurting me again.”

*** 

Reborn thought that last statement might have finally pierced Bianchi’s self-absorption. A stab straight in the heart; all of his cute students were showing talent at the verbal smackdown. All thanks to his teaching, of course.

“But … I love you,” Bianchi said in a small voice.

“You keep using that word,” Reborn said. “I’m not sure you understand what it means.” With Clumsy-Dino, he had used her antics as a training exercise. With Fluffy-Tsuna – the idea made his stomach knot. He would not, could not allow her behaviour to continue. “Put up or shut up, Bianchi. The only reason you’re not dead yet is because you’re kin to Hayato. You get one chance to change your ways; if you fail I will personally put you six feet under. If you can’t handle that, leave Namimori and don’t come back.”

“That starts with not poisoning anybody, in case you weren’t clear on that,” added Hayato. Reborn breathed in the aroma of fresh-roasted coffee while he waited for Bianchi to respond. She wasn’t stupid; she was nineteen, and her worldview was a bit sheltered despite being a hitwoman.

Bianchi pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “ ... So, I should have observed the situation instead of just barging in?”

It would do as a first step. Reborn tilted his head down. “You haven’t done much freelance work; so far you’ve had your father’s men track your targets for you. Now you’ll have to gather information for yourself.”

“That sounds like you got it from a video game.”

He smirked. “I did. It was a good game.”

*** 

Fon lay still in his master’s embrace, eyes closed; it was odd to be a _literal _ burden on Tsunayoshi, but who was Fon to question his wishes? Tsunayoshi carried him to the car and then from the car to the Hibari mansion. He permitted Cousin Wu Fei to carry his overnight bag, which Fei treated like imperial treasure. Kyoya’s driving was impeccable, as it always was when his Sky was a passenger – less so otherwise – and Meiran greeted them at the door. It all passed Fon by like water in a stream, as all his focus was on awaiting his Master’s next command.

Meiran showed them to the guest suite, newly renovated; here Tsunayoshi set Fon on his feet, and had him fetch towels and lay out a change of clothes while he showered. Though he showed no outward sign, his heart was racing. Tsunayoshi now had access to his full power, still wielded with pinpoint control. The purer the Flame, the more subtle abilities its bearer could use, and Tsunayoshi had the purest Flame of _any _ kind that Fon had seen. Not two dozen people in the world could fight the way Tsunayoshi had today – yet fighting skill was the smallest part of his Sky’s strength. 

While the afternoon had been for Kyoya, the evening would be Fon’s. He waited on his Sky at dinner, filling his plate and pouring his glass, then knelt beside his chair with his hands folded in his lap, in case his Master required anything else.

“Fon,” said Tsunayoshi, “Are you planning to eat any time tonight?”

“As you permit, Master.” He had intended to eat later, along with the Clan-cousins who were standing against the wall as an honor guard. If Tsunayoshi decided otherwise, a missed meal was a minor hardship. However, Tsunayoshi’s thoughts went in another direction.

“Meiran-san, could I borrow a spare bowl and chopsticks?”

“Of course, Tsuna-sama.” Once he received the utensils, Tsunayoshi had Fon hold the bowl, and selected pieces of food from his own plate to place in it. “Eat,” he ordered. Fon bowed his head and obeyed. He was hard pressed to keep his back straight and his hands steady. He had nothing but what his Sky permitted him, and what Tsunayoshi chose to grant him was a share of his own meal.

Meiran continued to make polite conversation, and offered extra helpings. Kyoya lurked on the windowsill. Periodically, Tsunayoshi placed more items in Fon’s bowl. Lichi chattered and leaped about on the chandelier, then took a nap in Tsunayoshi’s hair. When the meal concluded, he took Fon in his arms again and returned to the door of the guest suite.

“Go wash up and come straight back,” he instructed.

“Yes, Master.” Fon bowed low. He completed his ablutions quickly, put on a fresh tunic, and returned to tap at Tsunayoshi’s door.

“Come in, Fon.” Tsunayoshi had changed into pyjamas and a hoodie, and the same hands which had fought Kyoya with such ferocity were rolling a rubber ball across the floor for Lichi to chase. Fon entered and abased himself before his Sky.

“Fon.” Gentle fingers brushed his back, pinning him as surely as a lead weight. They traced the tattoo which marked him as Tsunayoshi’s property. “I take care of what’s mine. Is that so unusual?”

Fon knew he ought to answer, but he could not find the words. The strength to show softness, even to his subordinates – that was a rare thing indeed. Tsunayoshi lifted Fon into his lap, face down against his knee. He was vulnerable in this position, yet he felt no fear. 

“Breathe,” said his Sky. “Breathe in,” his hand slid down Fon’s back, “And breathe out.” It slid back up to his shoulders. Fon matched his breathing to the movement, accepting Tsunayoshi’s control over this most basic action. He fell into a trance state, thinking of nothing but the hand on his back and the air in his lungs. Tsunayoshi’s Flame glowed warm around him and at the center of his soul.

He was unaware of the passing of time. When Tsunayoshi removed his hand and Fon returned to normal consciousness, night had fallen. Lichi was asleep in the hood of Tsunayoshi’s sweater. Fon had rarely felt so refreshed; he rolled over and stretched, a contented smile on his face. Tsunayoshi met it with one of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fon has a sleepover with his Sky (and maybe Kyoya sneaks into the room to sleep beside his Sky too, but he'll bite to death anyone who mentions it).
> 
> Bianchi gets her nose rubbed in her naivete. 
> 
> I have this idea that Kyoya was using a bit of Mist secondary on the DC to keep them from figuring out who Tsuna is.
> 
> 'Lal Mirch' is an Indian name, so I've given her some backstory based on that; more in later chapters. (And 'Shamal' is Arabic; I have some ideas what to do with that.)


	4. Chapter 4

Tsuna’s escort today consisted of Takeshi and Chrome; Hayato was off with the science team, working on some last-minute presents. Tsuna was, strictly speaking, on business, though this was an errand he had been doing long before he heard of the Mafia. The Flames in his decoys faded over time, so he needed to recharge them; he had already topped up several trees, but the next stop would be trickier.

When Tsuna first chose to make cats into moving decoys – he’d been seven – he had picked stray cats because they would move around more, and they would be easier for him to reach without anyone spotting him. Not all of them had stayed strays, though.

He wasn’t familiar with the neighbourhood or the house he was headed for; at least, he _hadn’t_ been. Reborn had insisted on a thorough background check on the residents, which seemed less paranoid after they turned out to be ex-hitmen. Now Tsuna knew everything about Mr and Mrs Ferrarri, including their real names, their entire underworld careers and what they liked to eat for breakfast. Kyoko might have been a bit over-enthusiastic with researching, but there was no sign either of them was a hostile agent.

Tsuna stepped up to the door and rang the bell. A minute later, a tall black man answered the door. “Good morning. Can I help you with something?”

Tsuna scratched his neck. “Actually, I’m here about your cat.”

Mr Ferrari’s expression closed off. “Why would you be interested in a cat?” Of course he would be defensive; with his Flame hidden, Tsuna looked like a random teenager asking questions about one of their Don’s decoys. The cat itself had no such qualms; it bounded up and began rubbing itself on his leg. He picked it up and scratched its ears. 

“Hello again, cat-san.” He might as well do the recharge now; he spun out a thread of his Flame and sent it to touch the matching spark within the cat. He fed the spark until it blazed brightly once more, then tucked his Flame away. The cat purred.

Ferrari gaped. “Inten-sama!”

He’d get over it, hopefully. “Thank you for taking care of cat-san here,” Tsuna said. “You’re kind of putting yourselves out there with that, and I appreciate it.” He would never tell any of Namimori’s people to make targets of themselves, even though he kept being told he had the right to. That they volunteered for it was an astounding gift.

“It’s an honor to be of assistance,” said Ferrari.

“Still, you were willing to take the risk. Is your wife in? I’d like to thank her too.”

Signora Ferrari emerged from the kitchen door where she had been eavesdropping. “You know of us, sir.”

“Well, yeah.” Tsuna wouldn’t mention how much he knew; he didn’t want to intimidate them. A little bit seemed polite, though – “You both used to work out of Philadelphia, right? Japan must be a big change.” He’d have to make sure they were on his New Years card list.

*** 

He strolled along glass cases, studying the twisted forms within while his Sky wandered ahead. “Thanks for helping with this, Mukuro, I know it’s uncomfortable for you.”

“Kufufufu, at least this way I have oversight.” It was only mice, and arguably a good cause, but he will always prefer such things to happen where he can see them. “You have quite the collection here.”

“Matteo-sensei keeps giving them to me.” Unblinking eyes survey him; narrow bodies curled on their perches. His dear Sky returned from the back of the room with a bucket of live mice. His dear sister awaits them outside, notepad and camera in hand.

“Onii-sama, good afternoon.”

“And to you as well, dear Chrome.” To be among family is a delight, and every moment a treasure. “Tsuna, is your puppy not joining us?”

“He’s working on a project of his own.” A loud clang, and louder yelling, emerged from another part of the base. “Let’s get this done; I don’t like it much either.”

Warm Flames twist and turn cold; one by one, the mice were encased in spheres of ice. His gentle Sky grimaced and shook his fingers out. “There, now for the important part. I think I got a handle on this last time …” Soft hands cradled a frozen globe, his brow creased in concentration. Flame unfettered swirled around them, and soon after, a mouse ran free as well.

He caught it and put it in the bucket. “Kufufufu, I would call that a success, dear Tsuna.”

“Yeah, if I can do that consistently.” Six more mice are freed from their prisons. “Now I think I can send a progress report. Chrome, do you have the camera ready?”

*** 

The thumps and yells of the obstacle course were a familiar tune. Hayato kept an eye on the finish line, his thumb on a stopwatch button; beside him, Shamal lounged on a bench with his feet propped up on a first-aid kit. “How are you holding up, Hayato?”

“I haven’t had a panic attack yet, if that’s what you mean.” He hadn’t puked around his sister yet either, and he had both Shamal and Tsuna-sama to thank for that. “I’m still not going to take food from her or anything.”

“I heard that, little brother!” Bianchi jogged past; she was carrying Lal on her back in a baby carrier.

“Less talking, more running!” Lal smacked her with a riding crop.

“You’re doing a lot better than that time while I was teaching you.” Shamal winced at a loud crash from the course. “That’s going to leave some bruises. I’m impressed that you haven’t started smoking again … of course, you have something more entertaining to put in your mouth now.”

“Really, Shamal?” He wasn’t _wrong_, but did he have to be so shameless about it? Hayato clicked the stopwatch as Chrome and Mukuro tumbled over the finish line, splattered with mud and laughing. 

“Kufufufufu, this exercise never ceases to be amusing.”

“As much as chasing Verde with bees?” asked Hayato.

“Oh, hardly that.” Mukuro had gleefully made sure that the scientist’s rotation in Namimori was a _stressful_ one. “My thanks, dear sister, for your excellent assistance.”

She curtsied. “Likewise, Nii-sama.” They strolled away to clean up. Hayato noted their time, and picked up the radio beside him.

“Chrome and Mukuro are through, Decimo.”

“Great! The next pair is …” A pause as Tsuna-sama drew names from a hat. “Hana and Hibari-san.” The course wasn’t going to survive that – assuming the two Clouds _ran_ the course and didn’t just use it as a sparring field. He heard Reborn’s starting shot and clicked the stopwatch again. This was a major step up from his first experience with a Colonello-built obstacle course, back when he was a street rat on Mafia Land.

“Shamal, did I ever thank you for taking me in back then?”

“You were a hooligan, Hayato; you wouldn’t have thanked the Angel Gabriel if he gave you the keys to heaven.”

A small explosion echoed from the course. “Female herbivore, I will bite you to death!”

“I’d like to see you try, you orangutang!”

Shamal continued, “I gotta say, you’ve matured a lot since then; you’re at the point where you’re almost respectable.”

“What would you know about respectable, Doctor Pervert?”

*** 

Bianchi kept pace with Nana as she wandered through the shopping arcade, all the while wondering how she had been roped into this. “Are you staying in Namimori long, Bianchi-san?”

“Oh, a few months at least; now that I’ve finally caught up to my little brother, I want to spend more time with him.” Or die trying, apparently. Reborn had given her a _scroll_, of all things, listing Flame control exercises to complete before she could spend time with Hayato unsupervised..

“Ara, it’s good for family to spend time together.” Nana frowned slightly, and then the thought visibly slipped away from her; she strolled over to a display of porcelain bowls. Bianchi sighed. At least she didn’t need to worry whether Nana was trying to spy on her Famiglia or backstab them; that was a change from Daddy’s mafia balls. And Nana was so unreservedly _nice_. “Such pretty bowls …are you a student, Bianchi-san?”

“Nah, I’ll be going into the family business. Either that or travelling the world with my sweetheart.” She was less sure of that than she made it sound. Reborn had _shot_ her. She was in love with him, didn’t that count for something? Whatever happened to the glamour of the hitman lifestyle?

“Ah, I was about your age when I met my Iemitsu-koi. And even my clumsy Tsu-kun has his Hayato-kun. Young love is so exciting!”

True, her little brother and his Sky were all over each other; Bianchi’s chances of convincing Hayato to come home were minimal. Something about this town had changed both of them and Bianchi was going to figure out what.

“Bianchi-san, would you like to go for cake?”

“Sure, why not.” And in the meantime, she could enjoy some non-threatening girl time, right?

***

The Flame-testing device looked like a lens of clear glass, as big as a serving plate. Like the Arcobaleno pendants, there was no obvious sign of how it worked, and Hayato didn’t think Kawahira would let him take it apart. It looked out of place in the antique shop’s dusty back office, where Hayato, Tsuna-sama and Kawahira were crowded around it.

“I thought you might want to try it in private, first,” Kawahira said. Hayato could agree with that; he had no doubt that Tsuna-sama’s Flame held secrets that _no one_ besides his Guardians should know. And certainly not Hayato’s well-meaning but oblivious sister.

“How likely is it for someone to have multiple Flames?” asked Tsuna-sama.

“About one in twenty,” said Kawahira, “And more than one secondary Flame is much rarer than that. As you can see – ” he touched the center of the lens and a broad stream of indigo flowed from his hand to the edge, “I myself have only Mist.”

Hayato already knew he had Storm and Sun, and he was happy with that. Sun was a great holdout to have, especially when he was responsible for Tsuna-sama’s _safety_. He touched the lens, and felt a slight pull on his Flames.

“Oh, wow,” said Tsuna-sama. The lens was displaying most of a rainbow, not only Storm and Sun but also Rain, Lightning and Cloud. All of them were coming from _him_.

“Remarkable,” said Kawahira.

“You’re amazing, Hayato,” said Tsuna-sama, and Hayato suppressed a happy wiggle. His Sky was _impressed_ with him. Tsuna-sama kissed him on the jaw and continued, “Now I know why my intuition said to make sure you had a room to yourself.”

Because of his Cloudy streak, even before Hayato knew about it himself? “You take such good care of me, Cielo mio.” Obviously his territory was no more, and no less, than his Sky. And there were the other Flames, too; he was going to need more focus rings.

Kawahira gave them both an indulgent smile. “Would you like to go next, Boss?”

“Okay.” Tsuna-sama touched his hand to the lens; it revealed a broad band of tangerine orange, which Hayato expected, and a stripe of darker, russet orange. “Huh, I’ve never seen that color on a Flame before. Is that one of the Flames of Earth?”

“Yes – in fact, it’s the Earth Flame, counterpart to the Sky,” said Kawahira.

“Great,” Tsuna-sama grumbled. “Am I going to end up with a circle of Earth Guardians as well?” Surely, a Boss as amazing as Tsuna-sama deserved to have followers of every Flame that there was! But Kawahira shook his head.

“A second Flame can only support its own bonds if it’s equal in strength with the primary. And if that were the case, they would manifest as a combined Flame when you used them. Still, I shall have to locate some resources on the Flames of Earth.”

Meanwhile, Hayato was admiring the colors of his Sky’s Flames. The two shades of orange complemented each other wonderfully … he blinked, and looked closer. “Do either of you see this?”

Between the bands of Sky and Earth was a hair-thin line of black.

*** 

“Hieee?” Every time Tsuna thought his capacity for surprise was exhausted, something like this happened. He could _feel_ that little black thread; it really did belong to him. He turned his hand palm-up, concentrated on cold-dark-empty, and produced a tiny black Flame. All three of them stared at it.

“Well.” Kawahira cleared his throat. “If the Flame of Night emerges when someone is cut off from their Flames but still has the Will to survive …”

Right; out of all the lunacy that was his life, _this_ had a logical explanation. Tsuna sighed and closed his fingers over the Flame before releasing it. “We do not talk about this. To anyone. Ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And in true fanfic fashion, this will never come up again ^^ But I couldn't resist putting it in.
> 
> Bianchi hasn't got a clue yet, but she's starting to notice that there are clues to be had.
> 
> And some progress on a project or two.


	5. Chapter 5

Tsuna was picking up wrapping paper in the living room – the remains of a Sicilian-style Christmas Eve celebration – when Bianchi showed up on his doorstep again. At least this time she waited to be let in, and brought a store-bought, sealed tin of biscuits as a peace offering. He still didn’t intend to eat them.

“Tsuna – I mean, Signore Tsuna – how am I supposed to address you? Anyway, can we talk?”

“Sure, take a seat.”

“Um…” Bianchi glanced at Chrome and Haru, who were sitting on the sofa with cups of tea and giving her veiled glares. Daemon Spade was lounging on the sofa back between them.

“I have a security detail, deal with it.” Tsuna shrugged. Chrome conjured a biohazard container and put the biscuit tin inside it. Bianchi sniffed indignantly.

“It’s as if you don’t trust me.”

“That’s because we don’t,” said Haru.

Tsuna pinched his nose. “Haru, tact.”

“Hahi?”

“What did you want to talk about, Bianchi-san?”

She sat on one of the chairs and crossed her legs. “Why does Hayato like it better here than at home? I seriously don’t get it.”

Tsuna raised his eyebrows. “This is his home now. And I know you heard it straight from him; he’s treated better here than he ever was there.”

“You put him in a collar!”

“He likes it.” And she had no business judging them for it, sister or not.

Bianchi heaved an aggrieved sigh. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Studying something new is like that.” Tsuna could relate, even if Bianchi didn’t have a seal holding her back. “Sensei told you what your options are. You’re lucky Hayato agreed to go to church with you today. These two ladies will keep me company in the meantime.”

Bianchi looked scandalised. Just then, Hayato clattered down the stairs in his suit, herding along Lambo who was also reluctantly in a suit. “Leave that tie where it is, cowboy. Morning, sister.”

“Hello, Hayato. Do you know Tsuna here is two-timing you with these girls?”

Really?

Hayato rolled his eyes. “It’s not cheating if we’re all in on it.” To drive home the point, he stepped between Haru and Chrome and kissed each of them on the cheek. It was ridiculously cute. “I’m counting on you to look after Decimo.”

“We’ll do our best,” said Chrome. Haru added, “Anyway, we’re doing the Tango this month, not the two-step.” Hayato came over to Tsuna and kissed him as well.

“Will you say a prayer for me?” asked Tsuna.

“Of course, Decimo.”

Bianchi was gaping. Tsuna winked at her. “Let go of your assumptions on what will make Hayato – or you – happy, Bianchi-san. The answers might surprise you.”

*** 

Like any restaurant, TakeSushi is busy on Christmas day. Tsuyoshi is frying skewers of chicken for the holiday special, while Shiro handles the rice and Taro cleans the tables in preparation for opening. The first order of chicken bento is already packed up, held in stasis with Rain, for his most important customer. Tsuna-sama appears just before opening, Chrome and Haru at his side. “Merry Christmas, Tsuyoshi-san!”

“And a happy holiday to you, Tsuna-sama.” Tsuyoshi is too traditional to celebrate himself, but he doesn’t mind exchanging greeting with those that do – or taking their money, as the case may be. “I have your bento ready.” He presents it with a bow.

Tsuna-sama accepts the box and offers a scroll of paper in return. “Thank you, Tsuyoshi-san. Could you post this on the announcement board, please?”

Tsuyoshi opens the announcement; it states that Tsuna-sama will be testing his Flames’ full power in two days’ time at noon, along with an apology for any disturbance. “I know it’s going to cause some disruption,” Tsuna-sama says, “But I want to see how much I have to work with, and I might not get a better opportunity.”

That made sense, now that the last of his seal was gone. But, an apology? For revealing his Flames? Tsuna-sama need not apologise to anyone in Namimori, least of all for _that. _

“This is – I can’t – ”

Tsuna-sama lays a hand on his wrist. “Tsuyoshi. Post it,” he says firmly.

That settles it, as it must. Tsuyoshi bows. “Yes, Boss.”

*** 

Lambo hadn’t been to Church since he left Italy, and back then he had been too little to sit with everyone for the service. Now he was a big kid – seven! – though he was still too short to see over the pews. He stretched up to try to see what was going on. There was singing and candles, and the priest said some stuff that Lambo didn’t understand yet. About blood that was really wine? Or was it the other way around? It sounded gross either way. He looked around at the paintings on the ceiling and tried to guess which Bible story they were from.

He was sitting between Hayato-nii and Bianchi. He was supposed to make sure they didn’t do anything mean to each other. Why? Because getting along was hard, even with family, and Bianchi needed a lot of practice. She argued with Hayato even more than Lambo did! But Church was a place to be extra good in, so Lambo was keeping an eye on both of them.

After the service, the priest came up to them. “Blessings upon you, my children,” he said. “This is your first visit to our church, is it not?”

“Morning, padre,” said Hayato-nii. “Yeah, my sister insisted.”

Bianchi snorted. “If you won’t behave properly on your own, it’s up to me to make you.”

Lambo poked her. “Be nice,” he said as sternly as he could.

The priest shook his head. “My son, even the brightest of souls may benefit from the guidance of heaven.”

Hayato-nii grinned suddenly. “I already have my heaven.”

He meant Tsuna-nii! “Yeah!” added Lambo. Tsuna-nii was like heaven for him, too. 

The priest raised an eyebrow. Did he know about Flames? The bouquets all around the church had orange flowers in them, and that wasn’t a Christmas color. “In that case,” he said, “Please pass along my greetings.”

“I’ll do that, padre.”

Outside the church it was chilly, and Lambo was glad he had a fuzzy coat. “What are we doing this afternoon?” said Bianchi.

“I’m doing Christmas Japanese-style with Decimo,” said Hayato. That meant a date! And Hayato was blushing! “And you, Sister, are going to have tea with the Cake Appreciation Club.”

Lambo pouted. “What about me?”

“Check your phone, cowboy.”

Oh yeah, he had his own phone now! He took it out and poked around for the calendar. There was an event on it for this afternoon; he carefully sounded out, “Christmas party at Mukuro’s place.” There was a list of names under that; I-pin, Fuuta and Kawahira were going too, and Chrome was coming later.

Hayato said, “Those three never got to do Christmas before, so make sure you set a good example.”

“Bwahaha, Lucky Lambo will show them how it’s done!”

*** 

He had made up the apartment specially for the occasion, based on a memory of his Storm’s; his grandmother’s house in the country, all white plaster and wooden beams, baskets and copper pots on the walls. ‘Home’ is still a difficult concept to grasp. He would not dignify the steel-walled cells of his old life with that name. Yet, what will he build in their stead?

Sun and Rain crouched over a laptop, looking at pictures of Christmas trees. They all will have a say in the decorating – he’s read that that’s important. Their tree would be wholly illusory, limited by nothing but imagination. The sesame seeds scattered through the apartment are real, though, the casualties of an attempt at baking.

The doorbell rang, and Lancia opened it to the younger members of their family, and the oldest. “Mukuro-nii!” A green rocket tackle-hugged his legs, then looked around. “No tree?”

“Kufufufu, we were waiting for you to arrive.” He focused his will, and there was a tree growing out of the floor, green fir branches around a spiral trunk of his own invention. The sun pokes at it. 

“No scent … what do Christmas trees smell like?” he doesn’t know either, and adding scent to illusions escaped him. What use would he have for it?

“May I?” Elder Flames reach out and merge with his own – he was going to learn that – and grants the tree a smell, crisp and warm. He breathed it in, knowing it was not real.

“Oh, wow,” said the little prince. “Are you going to do the ornaments with Mist, too?”

“Kufufufu, indeed – whatever decorations you can think of, I, or Kawahira, will add them to the tree.” His Rain inevitably suggests a pickle.

*** 

Fuuta was wearing his new crown for the visit. He liked visiting Mukuro; the Mist and his minions had grown up in a cage, like him. And not even a _nice_ cage. All of them were still getting used to ideas like visits and holidays and presents. Fuuta had ranked the best presents to give each of them; that was fun!

So was watching the tree come together. The trees he had seen before were carefully designed with matching ornaments, pretty but boring. For this one, Mukuro and Kawahira were showing off to each other, so the decorations got a bit weird. Fuuta’s favourite was the tap-dancing pineapple.

“Kawahira-jii, are there any special things you do at Christmas time?” asked Lambo.

The ancient Mist shrugged. “The solstice is past, and anyway, we don’t have a goat. I’m happy to simply be included in your celebrations.”

I-pin passed out the presents they had brought. A skateboard for Ken, a model kit for Chikusa, and action movies for Lancia. For Mukuro they had found a video game about lawyers, since he was still thinking about becoming one. Their hosts provided cookies – which had merged into one giant cookie, a little black on the bottom. It still tasted great.

“I think we’re getting the hang of this Christmas thing,” said Ken.

*** 

Kyoko was trying to give Bianchi the benefit of the doubt. Despite the way she had barged into their lives, she did seem to care for Hayato and was trying to fit in for his sake. Whether she was succeeding …

“Have you found an apartment that you like?” Kyoko asked.

“It’s decent.” Bianchi sipped her tea. They were in Haru’s living room, using Chrome’s mismatched tea set. “I’m not sure how I’ll keep up with rent when I can’t take jobs, though.”

It was a fair point; most of Tsuna’s family still lived with their parents or had a steady source of income. “Don’t you have a trust fund or something?” asked Hana.

“Daddy cut that off when I started taking contracts. And I blew through the money from those pretty fast.” It might be arrogant of Kyoko to think so, since Bianchi was several years older, but she often came across as thoughtless and irresponsible.

“Hey. I can feel you judging me.” Bianchi reached over to flick Kyoko’s ear. Kyoko would have dodged it, but Haru reacted faster; she laid her hand on Kyoko’s wrist and passed her Flames over. Kyoko let them crackle across her skin and Harden it.

Bianchi tried to hide her surprise. “There goes my manicure … that’s fricking weird, you know.”

“Hahi?”

“Can you stop acting like a monkey?” said Hana. “So we know what cooperation is. Is that weird?”

“When you’re Flame Active? Yes, it is! And you’re not even a Guardian … are you?”

Hana snorted. “And share with Hibari? As if!”

Bianchi shrugged. “I can’t even keep track … what were you looking so judgy about, anyway?” Kyoko explained what had been going through her mind, and Bianchi actually listened. “You’re not wrong,” she said. “You’re all still in training, but Reborn is teaching you the high-level stuff – strategy, politics, information. I was taught to look pretty and kill things.” She pushed her hair back. “Which brings us right back to jobs.”

Her options in Namimori were limited, but they should be able to find _something_ to keep her busy. Kyoko’s fingers itched for her laptop.

“Bodyguard,” said Chrome.

“Hahi, that’s right,” said Haru. They had discussed better security for Tsuna’s mother, and Nana seemed to like her. “But can we trust her with it?”

Bianchi looked indignant. “Hey, I never roll on an employer!”

“You only ever worked for your daddy,” Hana shot back.

“I still wouldn’t!”

“We’ll have to run it by the Boss and Hayato,” said Kyoko, “But we might have a job for you.”

*** 

He offered her his elbow, gallant as he could manage. “It’s a pleasure to have your company for the evening, Nana-chan.”

“Ara, Doctor, you say such sweet things.” She laid a hand on her chin. “It’s a shame my Iemitsu-koi couldn’t make it …”

“Since your husband had the bad taste to be absent, please allow a friend to make up for it.” And a friend was all he intended to be, for once. Her husband didn’t concern him, but her son … had given his approval, to a certain degree. He wouldn’t go beyond it. She was mentally compromised, and he did have some ethics.

“Really? What do you have in mind, Doctor?”

He showed her to his car, a wisp of mist to deflect gossips’ eyes. “A chicken dinner, cake, and a ride in a ferris wheel – a traditional Japanese Christmas, yes?” She clapped her hands, delighted.

*** 

Lal has fallen into a routine for Christmas over the years. Since she doesn’t celebrate the holiday herself, she spends the day monitoring CEDEF’s feeds. Collonelo always sends her a box of chocolates and she passes the time by eating them and folding the wrappers into origami. That part hasn’t changed, although this year she’s lounging in her hotel room with a novel and a looping video of a fireplace. Her assistant is minding the feeds back in Italy; out of habit and curiosity she calls him to check in.

“Anything interesting going on?”

“Nay, ’tis passing dull. Naught but ordinary doings. Dost know, heir Longchamp hath a new lady-friend?”

“Again? What did he pick this time – blonde, brunette or redhead?”

“All three, ’tis said, in tiger stripes. Mayhap this one will keep his interest past a month.”

“I wouldn’t put money on it.” She picks up a chocolate and carefully unwraps it. “Any new rumors about Yin Tian?” Without any facts to go by, the rumor mill has gotten entertaining; more so since she knows the truth.

“The rumormongers do say that Yin Tian treateth with space aliens.”

Lal snorts, then bursts out laughing. “Pics or it didn’t happen.”

“Verily.”

This one is too much fun to leave alone. “If anyone asks, act like it’s credible.”

***

The chicken bento was a delicious memory, and the coffee cups that came afterward stood empty on the table. The sun had set, and the only light in the secret base was a string of battery-powered fairy lights hung on the ceiling. Hayato was stretched out under a kotatsu with his Sky, the edge of its blanket draped across their shoulders. Somewhere along the way their clothes had been cast aside, and the feeling of Tsuna-sama against him was nearly overwhelming.

“Ready to go further?” Tsuna-sama asked.

“Oh God, yes.” Anything Tsuna-sama did to him, anything he demanded from him, Hayato could not refuse.

“Put your hands on the edge of the tabletop and don’t move them.” Hayato obeyed, wondering what his Sky had in mind.

Light fingers wandered over his collarbone, leaving a hair-thin trail of Flames. Hayato bit his lip. Because the kotatsu’s blanket blocked his vision, he could not guess where the next touch would fall. He was at the mercy of Tsuna-sama’s Will … the hand drifted downward, tracing patterns on his chest.

“You’ve been a very good boy this year,” Tsuna-sama said, “So I’m going to give you something special.” He was watching Hayato; watching his reactions, listening to the sounds he made. A finger found his navel; he yelped and arched into it. It took all of his focus to keep his hands from moving. He was pinned in place by his Sky’s command alone. Sky Flames engulfed him, and he gasped. 

Fingers drew circles on his stomach, then wandered lower still. Tsuna-sama smiled at what he found there. “You’re nice and ready for me, aren’t you?” There was a click as he opened a bottle of lube. “Merry Christmas, Hayato.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Italian sesame seed cookies.](http://www.italian-dessert-recipes.com/sesame_seed_cookies.html)
> 
> Italian Christmas traditions vary widely by region and even by family; one variation is opening presents on Christmas Eve.
> 
> A very small percentage of Japan's population is Catholic ... which is still half a million people. With Namimori's large number of Italian expats, it's bound to have a church.
> 
> And you can use Ferrero Rocher wrappers for origami if you're careful about flattening them. ^^


	6. Chapter 6

For the first time in a long time, Tsuna was having trouble with his self-control. Now that his Flame was whole again, he wanted, just once, to see how much he had … and he was nervous. He would be literally baring his soul to all of Namimori; how would they respond to that? Would they still like him? Would they be afraid of him?

Reborn swatted him on the head. “Fluffy-Tsuna, you pick the strangest times to be insecure. Get over it; a Mafia Boss is always confident.”

“Whatever, Matteo-sensei.” His tutor, at least, would never fear him. Nor would the rest of his Elements, and they were all around him. Here, in the amphitheatre of Kokuyo Land – which he _owned_, how was this his life? – he was among more family than he’d ever dreamed of having.

Haru was dressed as a cheerleader, with two paper fans and a very short skirt. “Do your best, Boss! We’re all cheering you on!”

Silly as that was, it made Tsuna feel better. He scratched his neck. “I hope it’ll be a good show. What’s the time, Hayato?”

“One past twelve, Decimo.”

Right. Tsuna closed his eyes and focused on his Flame. There it was, at his center, tucked inside his skin so that none of it would show. He had kept it hidden so long, and probably always would, but not today. _Hello, World. _ He raised his Flame and let it spread out. Savored the lack of resistance. Across his Elements first, lingering a moment on each one. Then further out, past the Mist barrier that ringed the base, with all its Flame-powered devices and the animals that called it home. 

He passed through the heat of Dying Will mode into the steady burn of Hyper Dying Will; his Flame lifted him off the ground. Farther still, across Namimori and Kokuyo and the other neighboring villages, out to Kawahira’s Mist barrier that bounded the whole neutral zone.

*** 

At TakeSushi, Tsuyoshi lays down his knives as the wave of Sky washes over him. He is one of the few who has some idea of what to expect, or so he thinks. He has had the honor of serving Tsuna-sama directly these last two years, and he has been touched by his Flame many times. But this is Tsuna-sama’s Sky unfettered by the Seal, loosed from his iron control, and it goes on and on and _on_. Tsuyoshi stumbles back and leans on the wall for support; he tilts his head back to bare his throat to a lord who isn’t even there.

*** 

At the bottom of Kokuyo Land’s hill, a pair of Triad honor guards looked skyward in wonder.

*** 

“Lancia, why aren’t we scared?”

“I don’t know.” They _should_ be; if it were any other Flame with such scope and power, Lancia would be high-tailing it out of town on the next train. Instead, he, Ken and Chikusa were sprawled out on the boys’ futon, watching as Tsuna-sama’s Sky engulfed the city. “It would make sense to be scared. But Skies just don’t make sense.”

“Did you ever meet one before?” asked Chikusa.

Lancia shook his head. “There are less than a hundred of them in all the world; all I know are the stories. Like, there’s one about the Vongola Primo …”

*** 

Lounging alone in her room, Hana turned a page in her novel. “Monkeys gonna show off, I guess.”

*** 

Bianchi set down her coffee cup so she wouldn’t drop it. Holy _hell_, what had her baby brother gotten himself into? Her daddy’s attitude toward Skies was best summed up as confusion and resentment. For all the fancy parties and entertainments, all the leverage and force he could muster, he didn’t get half as much respect as a Sky would. What did the Vongola have, he would rant, that he didn’t?

Now she knew. Across from her, Trident Shamal sat pale-faced and sweating. On the living room floor, Fuuta and I-pin were coloring, oblivious to the tumult of Flames around them. That wasn’t as big a show of trust as it looked like; I-pin could take them both out if she used her special abilities. And then the Sky would _end them_. No, Bianchi was not going to move a finger wrong around Tsuna’s family. Even if her fingers did sometimes itch for a cake pan.

*** 

In the High School gym, mostly abandoned during the winter holidays, a young boxer slept.

*** 

Lal curses as only a military instructor can. She’s not sure whether to be pissed off, proud, or just glad she’s on Tsuna’s side. Iemitsu is _hosed_ and she is going to witness every minute of it. Father and son are roughly equal in power – the Vongola bloodline guarantees that – but in purity and skill? Tsuna is way ahead. If Iemitsu tried to do this, he would set half the town on fire. She cracks open a beer and drinks. The Tenth generation is going to be fun, she can already tell.

*** 

A young mother, standing at her kitchen sink, blinks as if waking from a long sleep. “… Tsu-kun?”

*** 

Enrico decided to take a long lunch when he heard what was going down today; it wasn’t like he was going to have any customers. The gambling hall was crowded and noisy with conversation, but as soon as _it_ started, a hush fell. Enrico shivered. A Flame of such purity and strength, which embraced them all so gently – that was worthy of all he had to give. Even the lowest thug could understand that. After endless minutes the Sky receded again, leaving profound silence behind. It lingered; nobody could think of a thing to say, until someone on the balcony cried out, “A toast! Long life and health to Inten-sama!” The answering roar made the walls shake.

***

Tsuna curled his Flames back into himself and settled to the ground, feeling like he had stretched out a cramped muscle. His Elements were in varying states of stunned; Reborn was out cold, a beatific grin plastered across his face, and all Tsuna could see of Hayato was the back of his bowed head. His balance wavered, and he sighed; he wasn’t quite adjusted to his new levels yet. “Hayato, here,” he called softly. 

Hayato scrambled across the short distance between them and placed himself on one knee as Tsuna’s feet. That let Tsuna lean on his shoulder while still leaving Hayato lower than him. “Clever boy.” Tsuna kissed his hair. “Is everyone all right?”

“Never better, Boss,” Takeshi said, and bowed. He didn’t usually bother with such gestures, but this was about something deeper than friendship. They were _his_; they would live and die and _kill_ for him. And in turn, he was theirs; they had seen him in his weakest moments and at his strongest. He reached out an inviting hand to them.

*** 

The Disciplinary Committee, faced with an event they had no instructions for, assembled in an ad hoc meeting. Kusakabe tried to bring them to some kind of order, but he was still dazed from what they had all experienced. “We already do work for Inten-sama, through Hibari-taichou,” he pointed out. “What else is there for us to do?”

“I dunno,” called Kaneda, “But there must be _something_ we can do to show where we stand.”

“Tribute?”

“I’m fucking broke, and so are you!”

Kusakabe clapped his hands. “Has anybody got an actual suggestion?”

“Paper cranes?” Came from the back of the group. “Like, ten thousand paper cranes. We could present them on New Year’s day.”

“That’s less than a week from now!” objected Tanaka. There was general approval for the idea, though – in part because of the challenge. With an objective in mind, Kusakabe was on more familiar ground; he thought through how to make it happen.

“Right. I bet some of the adults will want in on this; if we get a hundred people to do a hundred cranes each, it won’t take too long. Bring them back here on the thirty-first so we can string them all together. First, though, we need to buy paper …”

*** 

Reborn blinked and roused from his Sky-induced nap. That was his home, not whatever building he happened to live in, and the one place where he could truly rest. Naturally _his_ Sky would be the strongest the Vongola had produced in generations, as well as the best trained.

Currently, Fluffy-Tsuna was giggling under a dogpile of Guardians. He had Lambo in one arm and Fon in the other, Daemon Spade wrapped around his ankles, and Haru and Chrome had just kissed him on the cheeks at the same time. Reborn sauntered over to join them. “What was it like on your end, Fluffy-Tsuna?”

“I could see _everything. _” Tsuna smiled. “All the way out to the town borders. I could sense every Flame in Namimori – oh, yeah. Kyoya?”

The Cloud froze in the act of petting Fluffy-Tsuna’s hair. “Hn?”

“I think a few people went Active from that; can you have the Disciplinary Committee look out for them? We might have to start a kids’ club or something.”

“You’re absurd,” Spade grumbled. 

“I _know_!”

“That’s not going to be the only fallout from today,” Reborn warned him. It warmed his heart to see how his student had grown into his status; after this, he could expect more formal recognition of his rule.

“I’ll handle that as it comes up. Right now, I could use something to eat.”

*** 

Tsuyoshi’s two assistants are fidgeting in front of him, each waiting for the other to speak first. Predictably, it’s the Sun who breaks the silence. “Boss, we need to talk. About Inten-sama.”

“I know. We cannot go on as we have been.” Ever since his son brought the young Sky home, Tsuyoshi has been unwavering in his loyalty. He has been advisor, representative, ersatz parent – yet he has not sworn any oath to Tsuna-sama. At first it was because the young Sky was uncomfortable with formalities, and somehow it hasn’t been brought up since then. It’s a disgraceful lapse. 

“I shall lay my sword at his feet.” He already pays the highest tribute their Sky allows; he understands why that limit exists, but it still chafes. Tsuna-sama is worthy of their all. “And I intend to offer him ownership of TakeSushi, if he will accept it. Do either of you have any objection to that?” They do not. Tsuyoshi smiles; for nearly two decades he has been his own boss, and it does not trouble him to set that aside.

*** 

Tsuna arrived home to find his mother crying in Bianchi’s arms. Shamal, sitting beside them, raised his hands in alarmed defense. “I didn’t do it!”

This drew Nana’s attention, and suddenly she was clutching Tsuna in a tearful hug. “Tsu-kun, I’m so sorry!” Tsuna awkwardly patted her back and tried to figure out what she was talking about. It might have something to do with the Rain Flame he could now sense glowing within her.

“I said all those horrible things,” Nana continued. “You were never no-good, and I couldn’t see it!” She was apologising for _that_?

“You wanted me to be happy,” Tsuna said. “It’s all right, Mama.” He led her to the sofa. She was wearing Fuuta’s scarf, he noticed, and there were teacups on the table. Lambo dashed upstairs and returned with a plush toy for her to hold.

Tsuna would have noticed if his mother had a latent Flame. But there was a way to make a Flame Active person appear Flameless … a seal. He traded glances with Reborn. “Mama, I’m sorry I didn’t notice anything was wrong.”

“You couldn’t have known, Tsu-kun. It was when you were born … oh, that awful man!”

Tsuna blinked. “Who?”

“Your father … he said I wouldn’t need the pretty blue … he turned me into _that_ … and I _still love him_.” She dissolved into renewed tears. Bianchi opened her mouth, but Tsuna gave her a warning look. They did not need her views on ‘love conquering all’ right now.

“Kneecaps and elbows,” Reborn muttered darkly.

Tsuna said, “Shamal, in your medical opinion, is Mama all right?”

Shamal nodded. “Physically, there’s nothing wrong – you might feel warmer than usual, Nana-chan, or notice changes in energy or appetite; that’s normal. It’s not uncommon for women to go Flame Active during childbirth. Nana-chan’s Flames are stable, so there’s nothing to worry about there.”

“Flames? Is that what they’re called?” said Nana.

“Hieee? He didn’t even – ?” Tsuna took a deep breath and reined in his temper. “Yes, Mama. They’re something precious and secret, and many people have them. See?” He formed a little ball of Sky in the palm of his hand.

“Ara!” She cupped her hands around his. “So gentle and bright. Just like Tsu-kun, ne?”

Now _he_ was going to cry. How long had it been since his mother gave him an unqualified compliment? And that wasn’t natural – it had been done _to_ them.

*** 

Hayato fidgeted with the teacups while he waited for the tea to steep. I-pin had been plying the adults with tea all afternoon and needed a break. Hayato needed something to do so he didn’t distract Tsuna-sama from his mother. He could _feel_ the emotions surging through his Sky, anger and grief and more complex things. It was Hayato’s place to serve, not to add to Tsuna-sama’s concerns.

He carefully carried the tea tray out to the living room. Even hours later, his knees were like jelly in the presence of his Sky. He needed all his discipline not to fall at Tsuna-sama’s feet and kiss them. Instead he poured the tea and straightened, waiting for further orders.

Tsuna-sama glanced at him and patted the sofa beside him. Hayato sat and wrapped his arms around his Sky. A Flame of such overwhelming might, and he wanted _him_, trusted _him_. He purred.

Nana blinked, and noticed him for the first time. Hayato twitched; she was technically the adult of the house, and she might decide she didn’t want him there. No matter; if Hayato had to live in a box in an _alley_ to serve his Sky, he would do so.

“Hayato-kun, you love my Tsu-kun very much, don’t you?”

Hayato nodded into Tsuna-sama’s hair.

“Then I’m glad you’re here.” Nana leaned over to peck Hayato on the forehead. He squeezed suddenly wet eyes shut.

“Hey, is Lucky Lambo going to have to cry too?”

Hayato snorted. “Like you need an excuse, cowboy.”

“You’re mean, Stupidera.”

Tsuna-sama said, “No need to cry, Lambo. But I have a very important job for you – deciding what to have for dinner. I thought we could order in, Mama, and give you a bit of a rest.”

“I suppose I am tired,” said Nana. “But I’m cooking a feast for New Year’s!”

“Deal,” Tsuna-sama beamed. “I promise to explain everything you’ve missed – ” 

“I know!” Lambo dashed up the stairs and returned with a certain annoying bazooka. Before anyone could react, he aimed at I-pin and fired.

Future I-pin appeared with a _poof_. “Future ramen delivery!” She set down a stack of covered bowls.

“I can’t believe that worked,” grumbled Hayato. 

I-pin winked. “I’ve got something special for Lambo-chan.” She passed him a bowl with a green cowboy hat drawn on it. Lambo opened it eagerly.

“Hey, this is broccoli ramen! I’ll get you for this, Calamity-pin!”

“You’ll have to wait ten years for it to be fair~!” _Poof. _

Nana picked up the bowl with a blue 7 on it. “This is going to be one of those long explanations, isn’t it.”

Tsuna-sama sighed. “I’m afraid so, Mama.”

“It’s all right if you leave it for another day,” she said. “I’m sure you two would like some time alone together.”

Hayato turned bright red.

“I hope you’re using protection.”

“Hieee? Mama!”

Reborn tilted his fedora down. “Don’t worry, Nana, I got them condoms for Christmas.”

“Hieee! Sensei!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From clueless!Nana to badass!Nana (once she gets over the shock) 
> 
> This is a writer's way of having their cake and eating it too.


	7. Chapter 7

Tsuyoshi straightens his haori as he waits for Tsuna-sama to arrive. Though he hasn’t seen their Sky since his display of power – it’s only the second day after – he isn’t springing this on him; Takeshi has been acting as coordinator. Shigure Kintoki is at his side once more for the occasion, and he is wearing his most formal kimono. Shiro and Taro are lined up beside him, also formally dressed. His son appears at the door and looks around at their preparations. “He’s right behind me, Dad. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

And then Tsuna-sama is there. His custom-tailored suit and orange tie shout authority to anyone paying attention. Tsuyoshi bows, his assistants just a beat behind him, and stays down until Tsuna-sama tells him to rise. Their Sky sits in seiza across from him, with Hayato at his heels. For all his power, there is still a hint of the shyness he had, that first day that Takeshi brought him home; it’s like the pinch of salt that makes all other flavours brighter. 

“I’m honoured that you’re offering this to me, Tsuyoshi-san.”

“The honor is mine, Tsuna-sama.” Tsuyoshi knows this ceremony is more for his sake than their Sky’s; even a Rain’s ability to leave things unsaid has its limits. “I come before you to pledge allegiance and lay our family’s blade at your feet.” Suiting actions to words, he lays Shigure Kintoki on the floor between them.

Tsuna-sama lifts the sword and offers it back to him. “I accept this sword into my service, and you with it.” He glances over at Takeshi. “This is where we drink the sake, right?”

*** 

Tsuna suppressed a shudder as he swallowed the sake. It might be a tradition, but he couldn’t say he liked the taste. Two bowls each for Tsuyoshi, Taro and Shiro, and Tsuna as Boss had to drink most of it. Hayato discreetly lent him a thread of Storm to burn off the alcohol.

Takeshi removed the sake dishes; Tsuna said, “I believe there was something else you wanted to discuss?”

Tsuyoshi produced a sheaf of paper. “Boss, with your permission, I offer you sole ownership of TakeSushi.”

His life, _why? _ Tsuna hadn’t even bothered to protest this time; he knew that the perceived rejection would be devastating for the swordsman. Hayato passed him the Hidden Sky Trust seal and he applied it to the appropriate spot. “I humbly accept this gift.” Even if he suspected it was a ploy to pay him more tribute. The joke was on Tsuyoshi, though; as soon as Tsuna had control of the accounts, all three chefs were getting a raise. And if Tsuyoshi tried any more silliness, he was getting a _pension. _

Normally (so to speak) Tsuna would go over the restaurant’s books next, but Reborn had been using them to teach him accounting so he already knew them backward and forward. “Tsu – ” He paused and reconsidered. The man had gone to a lot of trouble to be recognised as a subordinate. “Tsuyoshi-kun, could you bring me the letter box? I’m sure there have been more responses to my, uh, demonstration.”

*** 

Tsuyoshi is wearing a small smile as he retrieves the box; it’s good to work for a Boss who gets it. There are many messages waiting for Tsuna-sama’s attention, everything from barely-literate greeting cards to letters typed on expensive handmade paper. Tsuna-sama sorts them expertly and focuses on the latter.

“Wow, this is a lot of verbal grovelling. Hayato, look at this!” He passes the letter to his Right Hand, who scans it.

“Impressive. I should take notes.”

“Hieee?” Tsuna-sama giggles. “It’s the Momokyokai, begging me for an audience. I suppose they think they need my permission to continue operating.”

“They do, Decimo, now that you’ve announced your presence openly.” Tsuna-sama rolled his eyes; Hayato continued, “Do you know their Boss, Tsuyoshi-san?”

“We’ve met.” Namimori’s retired hitmen sometimes have to remind the yakuza not to overreach themselves. “He’s a little hotheaded, but honourable.”

Tsuna-sama nodded. “I’ll surprise him, then. It does say they’re available at my convenience.”

*** 

Reborn bounded up the stairs to Lal’s hotel suite and rapped sharply on the door. He knew she was there; he could sense her Flame inside. Just as she would be able to sense his. There was some muffled cursing and the Lal opened the door. “What do you want?”

Reborn smiled piously. “I’m here to share the good news of the Church of the Fluffy Sky.”

“He’s got a cult already? That was quick.” Lal grabbed him by the collar, hauled him inside and shut the door, “Now why are you really here?”

Reborn straightened his jacket, momentarily serious. “A situation has come up that must not get back to Iemitsu under any circumstances.”

“And that’s different from the rest of Tsuna’s business how?”

“Fluffy-Tsuna has ways of defending himself.” 

Lal hadn’t spent years in an intelligence agency for nothing; she groaned. “Oh, God, the idiot messed with someone else, didn’t he. His wife?” Reborn smirked and remained silent. “Yeah, yeah, can’t confirm or deny, and all that. So am I confined to the hotel, or what?”

“Avoiding the house should be sufficient, unless you know of a means to prevent yourself from revealing information inadvetently.” Which was as good as confirming her suspicion, almost. Technically, Lal knew nothing, and Reborn could trust her not to try to find out. He wasn’t only doing this for Fluffy-Tsuna’s sake; after two and a half years of living under her roof, he had grown fond of Nana as well. And not just because of her cooking. 

*** 

Bianchi was in the uncomfortable position of questioning her view of the world. She was helping Nana box up pictures of her husband, including the ridiculous one with the photoshopped penguins.

“I know it was a shock when I found out,” Kyoko was saying. “Or a series of shocks.”

“I’m glad that Tsu-kun was honest with me,” said Nana. “Though it all sounds awfully dangerous.”

“It can be, but I decided it was worth it,” said Kyoko. “So did Tsuna, if you ask him. What about you, Bianchi-san?”

“I was born into a Mafia family, so I never really thought about it.” She had been so wrapped up in being Daddy’s little hitwoman and the pursuit of her True Love. And now she had to watch the pain that Nana’s love was causing her. Was Bianchi wrong about love conquering all? Or was she wrong about what love even _was_?

Nana laid the last picture in the box and closed the lid. “There. I’ll have one of the boys put it in the attic later. That’s rather refreshing,” she said about the empty wall. “Bianchi-chan, how did you ever link That Man to us? He never calls or writes.”

Before Bianchi could answer, Kyoko slapped her forehead. “He does send money, though, and that’s highly traceable if you know how. Matteo-sensei has been teaching me about it.”

“Pretty much,” Bianchi agreed. The idiot hadn’t even used a redirect through the Caiman Islands, so she hadn’t expected his wife and child to be any smarter. That would show her to make assumptions.

“Are there any precautions you can put in place?” asked nana.

“Sure. And since you’re family, I won’t charge my usual rate!” Kyoko picked up the box of pictures and bounced up the stairs with it.

“Ara, how energetic!”

“That’s Suns for you.” Bianchi fidgeted. “Nana, are you doing all right? Um, I mean – argh, I’m no good at this!”

“You’re here and you’re trying, dear, that counts for a lot.”

For heaven’s sake, was she blushing? She was in love with Reborn, not another woman. Even if she was kind and funny and – no. Not going there. The ringing doorbell saved her. “I’ll get it!”

On the doorstep was a very mismatched pair of visitors. “Hi, Haru. Shamal, what are you doing here?”

Shamal mimed a shot to the chest. “I’m crushed! Can’t a man drop by to support a friend in need?”

“It’s because you’re a pervert,” Haru told him.

*** 

Maybe it wasn’t fair of Haru to call other people perverts, but Shamal made it so _easy_. Biachi let them in, and Haru looked around for Nana. Yesterday the whole Cake Appreciation Club had spent the whole day here to help Boss explain Flames to his mother, and Haru had been so surprised! Why? Because Nana had Flames now – she had been sealed just like Boss. The effects were different, but maybe that was because they had different Flame types. Anyway, Nana was much more there with her seal gone.

“Hello, Haru-chan, how are you today?”

“I’m great, thanks! Hahi, I heard you were redecorating, so I brought you a wall hanging I made.” It was a patchwork of different fabrics and she had wrapped it in her best kerchief. Nana shook it out.

“How wonderful! You’re talented, Haru-chan.”

“I brought something too, lovely lady.” Shamal held up a CD labelled ‘breakup songs.’ “I’ve found this useful many times – er, I didn’t mean that how it sounded.” All three women laughed at him.

*** 

Lal grits her teeth and steps through the antique store’s entrance. A bell jangles overhead. Checkerface is at the counter in his guise as a mild-mannered shopkeeper, cleaning a tray of pocket watches with a cotton swab. “Ms Mirch. This is a surprise.”

“Can it. I’m not happy about this, but I need a top-notch Mist, and you’re it.” There are other Mists in Tsuna’s employ that would be more comfortable to deal with – even Mukuro, who goes out of his way to be creepy – but she knows what Checkerface is capable of.

“You doubt your ability to keep my Boss’s secrets?”

Lal snorts. “I’m not immune to Sky Attraction.”

“And you think I can make you so?”

“Not quite.” What she needs is a memory block, so that information will slip her mind temporarily while she’s around Iemitsu. Her own Mist secondary isn’t pure enough to manage it, and the real trick is to keep Iemitsu from noticing the working. She figures that Checkerface hid from the Vindice for centuries, so he should be able to fool an idiot Sky.

He listens to her explanation and spins a gossamer sphere of his Flames. “You have Mist enough,” he says, “that I can give you full control of both which information is held in this, and who it’s hidden from.

That makes it an incredible tool for her line of work. “And how much are you asking for this?”

“Ah. Let us call it a blood-price for my previous actions.” He gives her a bittersweet smile.

“… Fine. How do I get this in my head?”

Checkerface flicks a finger, and the sphere of Flames becomes an indigo jelly bean.

“Really?” Lal takes the candy. It tastes like grape.

***

The Momokyokai headquarters buzzed with tension, and Hatori the Crow, as Boss, got the worst of it. He was small-time and he knew it; he lacked the ambition to seek his fortune outside Namimori, and definitely not to poach in a Sky’s declared territory. While Inten-sama had still been concealed was one thing, but now the rules had changed.

Hatori was trying to keep his hands occupied by folding paper cranes – though he had ruined a dozen already – when his lieutenant threw the door open. “Boss, he’s here!”

“Who?”

“Inten-sama!”

“What?” 

“Suzuki showed him and his entourage to the reception room. He asked for you specifically, Boss.”

“_Aho! _ You should have started with that!” Hatori took two steps towards the door, then paused and turned back to drop his weapons on the desk. His stomach tied itself into a knot. What did Inten-sama think of his organisation? What would he require of them?

The reception room door was flanked by two grim young men wearing the badge of the Hibari; Hatori identified himself and they let him through. Within, the room glowed with familiar Sky. Hatori didn’t even look at the source before throwing himself on the floor. “This one welcomes Inten-sama to our humble base.”

“Take a seat, please, Hatori-san.”

He lifted his head. Their Sky was _ tiny _. Barely more than a boy, with huge amber eyes and fluffy hair. Hatori’s heart clenched. He knew that face; he was often seen at the gambling hall in Sasagawa-chan’s company. All the staff there adored him, and nobody had made the connection.

For a moment Hatori thought that Inten-sama had the Autumn Rain himself at his side. It was actually Yamamoto’s son; he had the same carefree smile and deadly eyes as his father. He had Shigure Kintoki at his back, and Hatori had been on the wrong end of _ that _ a few times. On Inten-sama’s other side sat Smokin’ Bomb Hayato, who was probably due for a new Name. Dark-haired and silver, they made an odd sort of yin-yang with their Sky as its fluffy center.

He laid an envelope on the table – the letter which Hatori had sent him. “Sorry for barging in like this. You don’t want to know what my schedule is like.”

“Thank you for making the time to see me, Inten-sama.” Hatori bit his lip. Had he gotten above himself again? Would Inten-sama want a group like the Momokyokai under his command?

Inten-sama smiled. “You’re my people too; of course I’ll find the time. Besides, I’d have a revolt on my hands if the gambling hall shut down.” Under the warmth of his Flame, Hatori was relaxing in spite of himself. For the last decade he, like every other Flame Active person in the city, had regularly spent time near one of the Sky’s decoys. In his case, it had helped him rein in some of his wilder impulses.

“May I present our accounts to you, sir?”

“You may. I suppose we’ll need some sake too.”

Hatori was dizzy with relief. He would be permitted to swear allegiance, and not reminded via Shigure Kintoki to _ stay in his lane _. He waved to his lieutenant, who had come prepared for this; he handed over the main ledger with a bow.

Inten-sama leafed through it. “Gambling, panchinko, ‘water business’ – the girls are all volunteers, right?”

“Yes, sir. And all older than sixteen when they started.” There were sake and dishes already in the room, and Hatori got them out. Inten-sama handed the ledger to his right hand.

“I’ll go over this in detail but I don’t expect any problems. I’m happy to have you with us, Hatori-san. Please treat me kindly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Church of the Fluffy Sky is growing quickly ^^


	8. Chapter 8

The shrine was crowded as it always was on the first day of the year. Tsuna adjusted the cuffs of his suit nervously. Lambo waved at him from halfway up the steps. “Come on, Tsuna-nii!” He climbed up without a hint of difficulty, though Hayato was right behind him, ready to catch him. 

Their first New Year together, Tsuna had still been getting used to the idea that anyone could look up to him the way Hayato did; that he could and did have people. Their second New Year, they were resting and celebrating after breaking the Arcobaleno Curse. This year … his family had grown in ways he had never imagined, and so had the challenges they faced. His Elements had gotten hurt protecting him; they had killed on his orders. At the top of the steps he caught Hayato’s hand in his.

Nana came up behind them, in a kimono which had been languishing in a cupboard for far too long. “Ara, Tsu-kun and his aibou are so cute!”

“I know; they’re going to give me cavities.” Bianchi was walking next to her, looking around curiously. “Is it always this crowded here?”

Nana giggled. “Only on special occasions. Come over here, I’ll show you how to wash up.”

“What do you think, Hayato?” said Tsuna. “Should I start calling you Aibou?”

Hayato blushed. “As it pleases you, Cielo Mio.” Only when Tsuna wanted to fluster him, perhaps. He touched his orange tie.

Over to the side, part of the shrine grounds was blocked off by a Mist barrier, so that Flame Active people could gather there without breaking Omerta. And Tsuna was about to walk among them as their Sky.

*** 

Tetsuya shifted from foot to foot. He knew that Tsuna-sama had entered the Shrine grounds – he could sense the soft glow of Sky, but he couldn’t see him. Why? Because Tsuna-sama was so short that he disappeared among the crowd. The Hidden Sky stayed hidden, even when he appeared in public.

His father elbowed him; he had spotted Tsuna-sama’s silver-haired Right Hand. They traded looks. Tetsuya signalled the Disciplinary Committee to stand ready; his father did the same with his squad of Momokyokai kobun.

From one moment to the next, Tsuna-sama appeared in front of them. Tetsuya gulped and bowed. “Best wishes for the New Year, Tsuna-sama.”

“And to you as well, Kusuakabe-sempai, Kusakabe-san.”

Hibari-taicho dropped from the trees to whack Tetsuya with a tonfa. “Herbivore, do it.”

Tetsuya bowed to their Sky again. “Tsuna-sama, the Disciplinary Committee would like to present you with this small token.” Tanaka and Kaneda brought it forward; a long garland of paper cranes, all ten thousand of them.

“Small token? Kusakabe-sempai, this is amazing. How long did it take you to make all of these?”

“Three days, sir. Many people helped; there was much sweat and bloodshed – ”

“Herbivore, paper cuts are not bloodshed.”

Tsuna-sama smiled; Tetsuya’s knees felt like jelly. “I would be honoured to accept it. Could you have it brought to the secret base? I think that’s the best place to put it.”

*** 

Nana looks around the shrine with wonder; she has been here many times, but she hasn’t seen it in sixteen years. And never like this, sparkling with Flames of every color. Strange to think that her Tsu-kun is so important among them; she doesn’t like the danger that puts him in, but he has been honest about it. Unlike That Man. Since she is surrounded by that world either way, she would rather be aware and prepared than ignorant.

She checks that Bianchi – red and dark green – is keeping up with her, and then spots another familiar face. “Lal-san, happy New Year!”

“The same to you, Nana. How are you holding up?”

“So much better! Thank you again for those practice exercises. I don’t know what That Man was thinking …”

“Have you got any plans to make him pay?” asks Bianchi. Nana giggles.

“Oh, literally, for the moment. I have a house full of children to feed after all.” She waves to another acquaintance. “Moko-san, happy new year!”

Moko-san blinks at her. “Sawada-san! I didn’t know you were …”

“Yes, it’s all quite new to me. My Tsu-kun and his friends have been very good at explaining things.”

“They’re good kids,” says Lal.

“Do you have any relatives that are involved, Lal-san?”

The tiny woman shakes her head. “My father was a professor of Sanskrit, if you can believe it; that’s how we landed in Italy.”

“Ara, for such an obscure subject?”

“Indo-European studies used to be a popular field, until certain idiots ruined it for everybody.” Lal shrugs. “Bianchi, now – her whole family is in the business.”

Bianchi twirls a strand of hair around her finger nervously. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here? I mean, I’m Catholic, not …”

“Don’t worry,” answered Moko-san. “Visiting a shrine at New Year’s is for everyone, whether they’re Shinto, Buddhist, Christian or whatever else.”

“Hindu,” said Lal. “There are 700 million of us.”

Nana giggles again. “Why don’t we go buy fortunes? Maybe Bianchi-san will be lucky in romance this year!”

*** 

Familiar calligraphy caught Timoteo’s eye amid the piles of holiday greetings. He pulled his heir’s letter from the stack and leaned back in his chair with a groan.

“Do you need me to get Brow Nie?” asked Schnitten, who was sorting invitations. Timoteo shook his head.

“It’s no more than the usual. I’ll see him at dinner.” The cold was hard on his bones this year, and at the rounds of holiday entertainments he dared show no weakness. Perhaps next year he would invite Tsuna to assist him. He opened the envelope.

“Happy Holidays, Grandpa Timoteo,” the letter began. “We’ve been quite busy here, with so many people celebrating holidays in different ways. I hope you’ve been having a good time too.” If only. At his rank, holiday cheer was no more than a mask over grim necessity. At such gatherings were alliances built, renewed … and broken. 

“I recently resolved a health problem from when I was little and I feel so much better now.” So, the seal was defeated at last. Tsuna rarely mentioned it in his letters, but any time he did, it was like a dagger to Timoteo’s heart. And he suspected Tsuna _ knew _ that. Soft, yes, but not only that. What a Don he would make! 

“I’ll be starting high school soon, and Matteo-sensei is already looking at universities in Italy. I’m hoping to study graphic design, even if I have to do it part-time.” Three years. A thousand days. He could hold on that long, couldn’t he? “I have a good feeling about this year. I’m sure it will be exciting for everyone.”

*** 

Fon lay face down on the ground, his Clan-cousins flanking him. Dry winter grass crackled under his Master’s footsteps, but he did not dare to raise his head. The memory of Tsunayoshi’s full power was fresh in his mind, and the _ weight _ of it held him down. Such a soul was worthy of all honor from a simple warrior such as himself.

“Good work,” Tsunayoshi told them. The amphitheatre around them was immaculate; not a pebble out of place, and not a fallen leaf left on the grass. “Wu Fei, Wu Lin, walk with me.” He lifted Fon and balanced him on his hip.

All around them, his Guardians were busy with brooms and buckets for New Year’s cleaning. Chrome and Mukuro were polishing windows together; Spanner was directing a robot vacuum cleaner, and Nana was directing Ken and Chikusa in tidying the emergency food stores. They crossed paths with Lancia and Ryohei, each carrying a stack of tatami mats; Ryohei yelled an ear-splitting greeting, while Lancia bent his head.

“You two are coming to the end of your rotation,” Tsunayoshi said. “Have you enjoyed your time in Namimori?”

“To serve has been a great honor, Lord,” said Wu Lin.

“That’s not what I asked,” Tsunayoshi singsonged.

“It’s a madhouse,” Wu Fei burst out; no doubt he was remembering the battle of the tapioca, in which he had been a pudding-splattered casualty. Fon concealed a smile. These two had come to Namimori eager and arrogant, though they did not think themselves so; Fon had been no different. He and they had had to let go of their assumptions about service in order to obey their Master’s will. And when that involved less martial valor and more tapioca, humility was quickly learned. “… Fun, though.”

“I’m glad.” They left the main path for a narrow footpath which wound around the hillside along the edge of the obstacle course. “As for the madness, here’s your chance for some payback. I want you to reset the traps on the obstacle course; feel free to use your imaginations.”

*** 

The best part of New Year’s Day was eating soba with Boss, Haru decided. There was a big steaming pot full of it! Right in the middle of their secret base. The whole Family was there, and the ones who were doing Japanese-style New Year were giving out gifts.

“Haru, this is for you,” Hayato shoved a box into her hands.

“Hahi!” Haru opened the box and there was a pokéball keychain inside.

“Push your Flames into it,” said Hayato. Haru knew how to do that! Her grandpapa had taught her how. She sent her Flames into the pokéball and a puppy came out. Haru squealed! It was green like her Flames and fluffy – not as fluffy as Boss but pretty close.

“Wow, is that a Box Animal?” said Boss. Shoichi nodded.

“We’re still improving our methods, so I hope you’ll excuse us for not giving you the first one, Boss. The first one we got working was Lightning, so we thought Haru should have it.”

Awesome! Haru held out a hand to the dog. “Do you want to be my Box Animal?”

“Woof!” The puppy put its paw in her hand.

“Hahi, so clever! I’ll call you Aomaru!” Best New Year ever!

*** 

“Voooi! Gimme another rum!” Squalo slumps carelessly against the bar. It’s approaching midnight and the Cavallone’s New Year bash is in full swing; the bucking horse might be a big-shot Don now but he still knows how to throw a fucking party. It’s almost enough so that he can _ forget _.

The barkeep puts a glass of rum in front of him and he slings it back. When he lowers the glass, Dino is leaning on the bar in front of him. Squalo nearly chokes. Fucking Skies; the only people who can sneak up on him like this are Dino … and the Boss. “Voi, don’t fucking do that.”

“I think you’ve had enough, Squalo.”

“Fuck you! This one fucking day of the year, I’m getting drunk off my fucking ass.” Another year with the Boss gone and ice through his heart. He should probably be nicer to Dino, since hanging around him is keeping Squalo halfway sane … fuck that. “I did not beat the fucking Sword Emperor just to push paper around on fucking desks!”

Dino laughs at him. The Cavallone ballroom is packed with his friends and allies; at one end there’s a wooden half-pipe set up. A tiny purple figure is doing flips on a skateboard there. “Voi, you’ve got a Cloud now?”

“Not officially, but I’m hoping.” Dino grins like a dork. “Totally worth the appearance fee.” Squalo is about to tease him about it when a swirl of Mist appears behind him and he gets yanked through it.

He lands in a heap on the floor of Mammon’s office. “Voi, what the fuck?”

“Mu, time is money. I have received a message that you must see.”

“What the hell is so important that you dragged me away from an open bar?” Squalo brandishes his sword, but the effect is ruined by the strawberry plushie impaled on it.

“I will bill you for repairs to that.” Mammon pushes a laptop towards him. “Sit down and watch.”

The video opens with what looks like balls of glass with mice encased in them. Modern art is weird, he already knows that. A slim hand enters the frame, does something the camera doesn’t pick up – and a sphere dissolves, leaving a very much alive mouse to scamper around the screen. Squalo curses. That’s not glass; it’s _ ice _. And whoever made it shows a lot more skill that old man Vongola. The action repeats twice more; only a faint shimmer shows the Flame technique that must be happening, and the mice look none the worse for wear. “Voi, you’ve authenticated this?”

“Yes.” The mice get shooed offscreen and replaced with a card. _ March 15-30. You know where. Happy New Year. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a happy new year to all you readers too! ^^ (I planned my update schedule like this on purpose!) This series is now the longest anything I have ever written, and I'm not even close to done yet! As usual I'll be taking a week or two off and then posting some other material (Final Fantasy VII this time). 
> 
> Part 8 of Hidden Sky will be rated X for Xanxus.
> 
> *** Language nerdery ***  
The Japanese word 'ao' is usually translated as 'blue' but its meaning covers some colors that English calls 'green', such as traffic lights and unripe fruit. Hence, Aomaru. (It's also a shout-out to the Nin-dogs in Naruto ^^)


End file.
